Time & Tide
by ellymelly
Summary: Slight AU. Wash is the sole survivor of the second expedition to Terra Nova. After she is killed by Lucas, Commander Taylor is prepared to follow her through time and reality until the lines blur.
1. Time

**TERRA NOVA - CRETACEOUS**

The oxygen rich air formed a heavy soup around him, saturated with fresh pollen and an accompanying swarm of ancient wasps. He remained perfectly still, even as a thirty millimetre specimen landed delicately on the barrel of his rifle. Commander Nathaniel Taylor watched as its iridescent wings unfurled, flapping slowly. Its stinger dragged along the metal leaving a trail of poison.

Everything in this godforsaken place wanted to kill him. The air. The plants. The ancient kin of birds and the bugs. The _fucking_ bugs. Those never even managed a footnote in his mission briefings about humanity's fresh start. Oh, there were novels detailing ore resources and a three-part-mini-series regarding sustainable farming but _nothing_ on the winged assassins marauding through the air.

The survival manual was the first sacrifice to the fire. In exchange he received another first – unidentified roast dinosaur leg. That was thirty-two days in. An eternity ago.

Every afternoon saw Taylor return to the caves around the lake, slip beneath a fierce waterfall and vanish into the gaping mouth of quartz. There, in the safety of the violent swirls of mist, he'd made a home. On one wall, Taylor scratched the passage of time and on the other, a map of the surrounding area. He ventured further each day, searching for a place to make camp when the rest of the expedition arrived.

He knew that something had gone wrong with the process but of course he'd expected there to be challenges. They were playing with a rift of time that the egg-heads couldn't explain. He doubted its stability from the start. His equipment, sent a day in advance, was found washed to the edge of a cliff and torn about by scavengers. Rust clung to the fastenings and it was then that Taylor realised time stepped differently on this side of the portal. The next wave of crew could arrive today – or in ten years. Until then, Taylor was alone.

Bones from previous meals were sharpened into an array of knives and arrow heads. His arsenal grew daily, laid along the wall like a row of teeth. Through the overbearing thrash of the waterfall, he could hear a carnivore cry out signalling nightfall. They liked to hunt in the twilight, when the shadows draped over the land and confused the calmer giants rounding up their hatchlings. Near as he could tell, this was Spring.

"Looks like it's just you and me," Taylor sank down on the floor beside a huge dinosaur skull he'd found in the cave. It was near as long as he was tall and missing a tooth. Still, it had a hint of mischief in its eyeless grin.

* * *

One hundred days later, the rains subsided long enough for fungi to thrust from the forest floor. It conquered like Alexander, towering to Taylor's shoulders with violent red hats and clouds of spores which erupted at the lightest touch. He swung his rifle over a low branch and dragged himself out of the mayhem into a tree.

He didn't see the shiver run through the surrounding rainforest. Enormous boa constrictors, tangled together in the canopy, startled. Tiny, tree-dwelling dinosaurs vanished down holes dug into the trunks with their next batch of eggs.

The forest held its breath...

Time and space ripped. A great crack bit through the air, igniting the oxygen which flashed viscously for a moment. Smoke was left, spiralling through the forest and at its centre was a strange, shimmering pool. Like mercury it quivered, unable to settle as though its reality was neither here nor there... A quantum truth and universal violation.

Twelve people stepped through.

Military units, they spent a moment in startled awe before dutifully moving to spread out and secure the area. They got as far as forming a perimeter before sickness overwhelmed them. The air was too rich for their strangled lungs. Oxygen rushed to their head. Their hearts struggled to force the blood through. The result was a blinding headache – nausea and in a few unlucky cases, fainting.

" _How many did we lose?"_ Lieutenant Alicia Washington screeched at her radio, nursing her own scorcher.

" _Four down – another three don't look so pretty."_ One of her team replied.

They ended up with their asses on the ground, heaving except for Wash. She slid on a pair of sunglasses and tilted her head up to look at the light filtering in through the canopy. There were places on earth with trees – forests even and she'd been lucky enough to see them before being sent to the capital where plants were kept in glass cages. Nothing like this. It was as though they were sentient, greeting them as sentries with their trunks thicker than a transit. Speaking of...

"Anyone clocked a rover?" She spun around, turning back to the portal just in time to watch it disintegrate prematurely. 2149 was gone and along with it all their stuff. Without the safety of the portal, she realised the fragility of their position. "Everyone, on their feet! Sharp!"

Most struggled but soon if they were going to hurl, they were doing it with a weapon in their hands and eyes on the forest.

"Sir – we're nowhere near the cap site. The re-con beacon isn't registering on the comms. I've got nothing."

"As always, you've given me details and missed the headline act," Wash replied, handing her officer back his useless toy. "The Commander's not here to greet us."

* * *

Wash tripped and slammed into the mud. Leaves and vines flew from beneath, sending her straight back to the ground when she tried to stand. It was only their petty vengeance that saved her life. A moment later, a huge foot pressed into the ground where her body should have been. It had the span of her entire flat, crushing everything beneath it.

Unable to move, Wash closed her eyes, dipping her head back down into the filth so that from above she looked like another piece of debris. She felt drops of water rain down around her, running off the body of the creature above. A second foot hit the ground nearby then a tail swooped over, smashing small trees and stripping bark from the larger ones.

It chased her men, proceeding through the dense jungle in search of the strange, small animals it had pursued from the grassy flats on the far side of the river. Wash watched two of them vanish into its jaws, swallowed without a second bite. Another was broken beneath its feet and four more were trapped in the rapids, ripped into the current that sent them flying into the wildness in a world without end. That left five, scattered nearby with nowhere to run.

The beast above her emitted a strange call. Like an eagle, it cried out, inviting others to join in the hunt. Wash knew she couldn't stay here under its feet. Sooner or later, it was going to glance down and notice the unarmed snack.

Carefully, she began to shuffle backwards toward the nearest pine. Scattered around its base was a mess of branches where a partner tree had fallen and long ago become a hollowed skeleton. If she could reach the entrance perhaps she could hide within the peat. Wash spared a thought for the others. They had to follow their training and go to ground – wait.

Wash was careful, moving only when the towering creature was distracted. The jungle hushed in common fear. Her boot grazed the surface of the log. She risked a look over her shoulder. Now that she was here the task of peeling herself from the mud and manoeuvring into the log seemed insurmountable.

 _Shit_... She thought, before returning her gaze to the dinosaur. Wash found a huge set of golden eyes fixed on her, blinking with a mixture of curiosity and hunger. _Double shit._

Wash rolled left. A snout full of teeth crashed straight through the flimsy log, shattering it in a storm of splinters. On her feet, Wash made a brief play for her weapon but was cut off by a foot ploughing into the ground in front. The problem for the carnivore was that Wash was _too small_ rather than too fast. Every time it went for her, it overstepped the mark – literally. Wash used that to her advantage, ducking off to the side where she found herself stumbling though a knee-deep stream full of rocks and egg shells. Flecks of gold stuck to her uniform, washed from a hillside nearby where a scar in the cliff glistened.

The tug of the rapids threatened to steal her away but she latched onto the larger boulders and dragged herself onto the other side. She found one of her soldiers a dozen feet in the air, caught in the branches with his innards dangling free, dripping onto the ground. Wash averted her eyes.

That left four until a scream narrowed that to three.

" _Position!"_ She hissed at the radio. _"Report!"_

Only one of them managed to flick their radio on. Their babbling was incoherent. Wash heard whispered pleas right up until a crunch of teeth from above. What happened to the last member of her team, she'd never know. Their bones would grow white in the jungle.

With nothing else to hunt, the carnivore was back on her trail. Having no weapon, she high-tailed it, gasping almost immediately with the thick air. It crossed the river behind her then entered the tree line. This was all going to be over very soon if-

A hot hand wrapped around her mouth and pulled her into a thicket. Thorns. Petals. Sap. It all ran over her skin as Wash was dragged, flailing, into the Cretaceous jungle. She ended up deep, imprisoned by the root system of a felled giant tree and yet even here she knew this was window dressing not safety.

"Easy..." A familiar voice purred in her ear.

Wash felt the prickle of her CO's beard across her cheek and then his free arm drift around her waist, tugging her flesh against his body. They were pressed to one of the trees, hiding in the shadows with an incredible field of mushrooms. It was the spores, misting around them, that confused the pursuing creature. It stopped at the edge, shying away from the filthy air.

As if sensing she was about to talk, Taylor tightened his grip on her mouth. A sound now would be enough to tempt the monster forward.

There they remained, living breath-to-breath. Taylor's lips were beside her ear and her free hands gripped the arm around her waist – first in alarm – now in comfort. Ridiculous as it was, for a moment she felt safe.

"Bad luck on your first day," Taylor finally said, letting his grip slip away once he was sure the carnivore had lost interest and wandered off. "Didn't meet one of those for a whole month," he continued, silently checking Wash over as he'd done a hundred times on their missions together. For him, it was as if nothing had changed. "They hunt with the rains – following bad weather from one side of the continent to the next. Lieutenant?"

Wash was staring _through_ Taylor, unable to comprehend the scene in front of her. His grey hair was longer, covering his eyes where it wasn't weighed down with grease and mud. Deep scars were in various stages of healing, three of which were on his neck put there by vengeful claws. His uniform was in pieces, supplemented by patches of hide and a few feathers. If it wasn't for the standard issue rifle slung over his shoulder he could have been perfectly wild.

Despite the fear, there was something smiling in those eyes of his.

"You with me?" Taylor snapped his fingers in front of her face.

"S-sorry, sir," she stammered, unaware that she was crying. The tears cleaned tracks of cream skin. "Sir..." she followed, taking a careful step back to restore space between them. "What happened to you?"

"I'll explain everything later," he assured her, "but first – what happened to the others? Your team..." He added, when she seemed to drift away from him again. It was the oxygen. It saturated the blood and messed with the brain for several days.

Wash shook her head. "No. They didn't make it."

He knew better than to press her. "We'll have to wait before we return for a salvage. You ran into a female marking her territory. She'll hunt this area for at least another couple of days."

"What was that?" Wash asked, beginning to emerge from the fog in her mind.

"Not sure that one has a name – thought I might Christen it, 'Pain in the Arse' seeing as I'm the only one around to name things."

"About that," Wash added, "how long have you been out here on your own?"

Cracks appeared in his false humour. "One-hundred and eighteen days," he replied. Every one of them was scratched into his skin.

"Then we're in big trouble. It's been twenty-four hours since you were deployed. We were right on schedule."

"Maybe we should have a word to those scientists..." Taylor trailed off. "I reckon they've carried a few too many ones and missed a bracket."

* * *

It was worse than a simple time calculation. The rip wasn't a single split but a fracture with hairline faults running for miles. Taylor had seen it from his perch above the canopy when it opened the last time. It sprawled like the arms of a fern and he was pretty damn sure it could tear at any point.

"You and I were lucky," he said, as he led her back through the forest toward the base of the river. They could already hear the waterfall in the distance which Taylor had come to think of as a sign of home. "We landed in the forest but some of the cracks run over the water and others – well let's just hope they packed parachutes... It's up here," he added, pointing through the cycads. "I'm afraid it's not much but it's better than a night out in the open."

The reality hadn't sunk in for Wash. Taylor could tell... The next expedition was meant to set up the two-way radio links but the equipment was scattered through the jungle covered in blood. Even _if_ and that was a big _if_ , they managed to hunt it all down, the next call was another few hours away – or several months of Terra Nova time.

"Who was in your team?" Taylor asked carefully.

"New recruits," she replied, trailing her CO. The mud had caked over her skin and fell away as dust. "We met for the first time in the briefing yesterday. Our job was to find you and help set up an area for the first team of scientists on their way." Wash shook her head. "They were kids, sir."

"Don't go there, Wash."

Her reply was a nod.

"Tell me more about the next team."

"You saw the list," she replied, then realised that was a long time ago for him. "A cluster of medics, palaeontologists, engineers, botanists and chemists – enough to gather information about the environment and begin a small enclosure for the next wave."

"Microscopes and bone-hunters," Taylor sighed, "they should have shipped in our unit. They'd have a comfortable camp laid out in no time."

"I still don't understand, how have you survived out here on your own for so long?"

Taylor brought them to a stop at the edge of a blue lake. It was frighteningly deep, vanishing into the earth while its water was perfectly clear. If you looked down from the top of the falls you could make out the bones of unfortunate dinosaurs that had become lost in its waters. On the opposite side, the falls streamed down like a curtain made of clouds, ending in a magnificent foot of white foam.

"Luck, Wash. Never underestimate the power of pure chance."

"Never made particular friends with her, sir."

Taylor laughed for the first time since he'd arrived. No. Longer than that. The first time since he'd left her on the shuttle deck. "Even with all the luck in the world, you're going to need something stronger if you want to make it out here." She was staring at him blankly through a layer of filth. Curious bugs had landed on her hair and explored, flashing their vibrantly coloured bodies. "A sense of humour. You got a-" He finished with a finger pointing to her shoulder. The same insect that had earlier rested on his gun now settled on Wash. Her startled yelp stirred memories he thought the years had erased.

* * *

"Impressive," Wash whistled, taking in the cave and all his things. "I mean, it could use a picture or two but otherwise-"

"Don't touch those," he swatted her away from his collection of bone weapons. "They're not finished."

She'd never seen him protective of anything – except perhaps his team. Not since Somalia. Wash lifted her hands in defeat. "Just admiring your handy work," she assured him. "What are you up to?"

He was scurrying around, making preparations as if he was thinking of moving out. "Alone, out here – the only thing you can do is survive," he explained. "There isn't time for anything else. You stop – you starve, or worse. I've been on the wrong side of the dinner plate a few times in the last hundred days."

"We weren't expecting a welcome party," she tried to assure him but that wasn't what he was getting at.

"The next team of people to arrive will be the test to see if this world can work. If they die _nobody_ will forgive the expense of another failed expedition. We need to make sure that when they arrive, _they live_."

"What are you proposing, sir?"

"First thing, we scout out locations for the main camp. I've got a couple of ideas in line but I'd like to know your thoughts. Then we build protective areas for the arrivals. We'll have to be fast about finding them too. They could pop out anywhere in this valley."

"Right now sir, if you don't mind. Think I might take five." Wash looked like she needed it. There was a terrible laceration running across the back of her arm onto her shoulder blades which neither of them had seen earlier caked beneath the mud. Another wound its way up her leg where it had left a hole in her pants. As soon as he gave a short nod, she retreated.

* * *

A few hours later her found her sitting behind the waterfall, well within the cloud of mist. She was soaked through, enveloped in the freezing water like some kind of water nymph. The blood had washed away long ago along with the mud. It washed the tears off her cheeks as well. Taylor suspected that was why she'd chosen this particular location to brood. Her whole team lay over the jungle floor. He suspected it had less to do with them being dead and more about her inability to save them.

"You can't always fight them," Taylor said quietly, taking a seat beside her in the rain of the waterfall. The world beyond the veil of water was nothing but blurred hues of green and blue. The sun lasted longer than he was used to, tracking slowly across the sky. He figured they were close to the equator. "Terra Nova – it's not a war zone. There are no enemies for us to fight or battles to plan. There's only survival. It takes a while to accept that we're no longer the top of the food chain. Around here I'd say we're about on par with those bugs you like so much."

"I dropped my gun."

"We'll get your gun back. I promise, nothing out there is interested in it." Taylor thought for a long time before deciding to place his hand on her shoulder. She was cold as ice – shivering under his touch. "Come on – there's a fire and a bit of left over Slasher."

Wash turned on him, a puzzled expression knitting her eyebrows together. "Slasher?"

"You're going to like those even less than bugs," he promised.

* * *

Taylor waited for her to pass out against the rudimentary bedding he'd set along the wall. It was a mixture of leaves carefully stripped of insects then stuffed into casings he'd woven from palm leaves. The first few times he'd tried had ended in disaster. Leaves that gave off a hallucinogenic gas as they broke down brought him to the brink of madness. It had taken nearly a week of hilarious visions for him to realise seventeenth century pirate ships floating down the river were not part of the Cretaceous. After that, he'd inadvertently brought an ants' nest in. Let's just say he was getting better at this sort of thing.

He was pretty good at patching up nasty scrapes too. Taking a piece of fibre from the inside of a water plant, he twisted it into a piece of string then threaded a field needle. Wash barely twitched as he started on the first wound.

"You're easier to fix when you're laid out, Wash." Taylor whispered. "Last time you went and bled all over my best uniform. I know we blamed it on that Yellow-Dome terrorist but I still think it was spite."

Truthfully, this wasn't the first time he'd spoken to her when she wasn't around to listen. Living here, alone, with a waterfall for company... It did things to the mind. There were some days when he caught himself reporting back on missions to her simply to have someone to talk to.

"All done," said Taylor, sitting back when he was finished. Wash was quiet, deep in a well earned sleep. Taylor brushed a few wayward strands of hair from her face and paused. _Why was it always her?_ She had a habit of showing up when he least expected it and needed it most.

 _Get a grip, Taylor_ , he chastised himself, _your specifically requested her on your team._ Her presence was the result of good organisation not divine intervention.

* * *

 **TERRA NOVA - 2150**

All they'd left Taylor with was a stain on the concrete. He knelt down, reaching out to the mark as if through that trace of dried blood he could find her. That was a lie. Lieutenant Wash was beyond anyone's reach.

"Sir..." A shadow lingered behind. Search lights cut through the night, clouded by the same haze of bugs from Wash's first day. Corporal Reynolds continued to wait while the Commander lingered at scene. "We're still looking for her."

"Her body, you mean," the Commander corrected him. "You can say it."

A careful nod. "Yes sir."

"Why don't you try telling me what you know?"

"I..." Mark Reynolds didn't know how to find those words. "Would rather _not_." A terrifying set of eyes met his as Taylor straightened to his full height. Reynolds was still taller but he might as well have been a raindrop facing the ocean. "There's a makeshift grave running along the Eastern side where the other residents were... Well, we think the soldiers might have..."

Taylor raised his hand. He'd heard enough now. His stomach dropped until he felt like he was going to be sick. Scrap that, he _was_ going to be sick.

* * *

"How long has he been in there?" Skye asked, standing beside Reynolds.

"Half the night," he replied. "He's been briefing patrols to re-establish the fences as a first priority. A pack of Slashers has been spotted sniffing around, drawn by all the noise."

"And our dearly departed friends?"

"Sixers have retreated into the jungle, probably back to their old camps to regroup. I doubt we'll see them back here for a while. The soldiers headed out towards the Bad Lands. Commander thinks they're looking for something but right now their shady motives are not our priority."

"No. Finding Wash is his priority," Skye replied quietly.

Reynolds folded his arms across his chest, ignoring the tears in his skin from the previous battle. "Normally I wouldn't ask but-"

"Don't ask," Skye rested her hand gently on his arm. "Wash is a story he doesn't tell. He'll _never_ tell it. Just – do whatever he asks. That's what he needs from us right now."

"If he asks me to do the dishes I would," he assured her. "As it stands, I think I'll help find the Lieutenant."

* * *

Reynolds was there when they found her, tangled in with the other bodies of Terra Nova's residents, tossed aside like trash. The Commander wasn't even informed of the discovery until the medical team had cleaned the mud from her body and laid her out in the medical centre. Taylor found a trace of mud stuck to her hair. Even in death it found her.

The team who'd brought him in sank away into the hospital leaving Taylor alone with Wash. He sat in the chair beside her bed as though he were visiting her in med bay after another of her numerous mishaps. With all the windows laying as shattered glass on the floor, wind kicked at the sheets of cloth strung up to give them privacy.

"Oh Wash..." He finally whispered. "I didn't think it would end like this. Was always supposed to be me first, you know, like we promised." There was no hiding the circular hole in her forehead. Wash was dead because his son wanted revenge. She was the perfect punishment for the perceived crimes. "My fault again."

Every time Taylor closed his eyes he was back on the other side of the fence, watching her crumble to the ground. She'd said something first. He watched her lips move and a tear fall before the end. That would become another one of her secrets.

The Commander remained with Wash for hours, talking as though she were still alive. Eventually he steeled himself enough to leave and the next morning they buried her beneath the twin pines. He kept her dog tags, draping them over his head. It was probably a serious breach of protocol but no one uttered a word.

Reynolds was the last one to stand beside the soft dirt. "I'll look after him," he promised Wash, "exactly like we promised."

* * *

"They've got to be here somewhere," said the Commander, lowering his binoculars.

"We've been out here for hours," Reynolds replied. "If this was the new Sixer camp, we'd have seen movement. They must have headed deeper into the West."

"Away from the ocean? They'd be _mad_ to try," Taylor replied. "The forest is too thick if you go beyond the hills and without the sea to supplement their diet, they'd stave. No. They're here somewhere. Keep looking."

They did. Every couple of days more searches were dispatched, marking off new grid references. Intuition slowly gave way to methodical sweeps. Nothing turned up except a few long abandoned bunkers with welcome, stolen supplies.

Terra Nova recovered. Its fences were fixed, the gardens replanted and the buildings patched. Without contact to the future they had to make do with some rudimentary supplies the Commander fashioned from their surrounds. This week was special. The cores that powered all their hand held technology finally expired. The engineers were too busy securing the settlement to find a solution to charging them so people began writing books.

Skye knocked before entering the Commander's office carrying a cup of coffee. She found him sitting behind his huge, dinosaur skull table. It was one of the few items to survive unscathed from the raid.

"Give me a moment," Taylor acknowledged her presence without looking up from his notes. Their relationship was repairing but ever so slightly rocky. Her punishment was watching his heart break and feeling partly responsible for it.

"I'm not sure it's perfect yet but a panel of curious bystanders say I'm getting better," Skye said, setting the coffee down in front of him when he was ready.

"Coffee – that must mean the queue has finally gone from outside my door."

"Yes, they're gone. Don't worry, they'll be another line there tomorrow morning."

"Are the – uh – new homes finished yet? I'm sure I saw a memo..."

"Yes," she interrupted. "We're all back in a house only this time the walls are made of Iron-bark. No. It's okay – I love it," she assured him. "Mum used to say one day we'd have to survive without help from the future. It might be a bit sooner than we were ready for but it's what we expected. Most people had given up any dream of returning to the future so all in all, losing the portal has gone down rather well."

"I had a feeling," he replied softly. "Home is something you build with your hands." He tried her coffee. Her assessment of it was pretty accurate but it'd do the job. "I've been thinking – that shady still of yours."

"It's okay – closed for business as instructed, besides, everyone's being exceptionally law abiding of late."

"Actually I was going to give you the unofficial nod. Good for moral. Without supplies coming in from the future the bar's going to turn into a rather sad affair. I'll throw a couple of guards your way."

"And I'll toss a couple of pints toward the guards. Yep. Got it." Skye grinned.

"We'll look at making it official in the new year. I trust this won't impact your training?"

"I'm not sure I was put here for my green thumb..." Skye sulked. She wanted to be a soldier – train with the Commander but since Wash's death he was in no mood to entertain those particular aspirations. He'd come around in time. For now she had enough to atone for before she could argue the toss. "But if I can ferment things I'm sure I can grow them."

He nodded at her warmly. "Could you rustle up Shannon on your way out? I need a word."

* * *

"Not a social call?" Jim Shannon strolled into the Commander's office. It was littered with recovered pieces from the raid. Electronic remnants were in high demand and every evening the Commander had a flock of eager engineers waiting for a look at the new pile. They'd have to wait – scattered among the wire and fried circuit boards were crates taken from the Sixer camp.

"Not even close, Shannon." Taylor replied, indicating that he should have a seat. "Where are we at with the market?"

"Nearly back on its feet, sir," Jim replied. "Few more stalls and the settlement will be self sufficient – at least as far as food is concerned."

"That'll have to be enough for now. As soon as they've stopped starving they can begin building. We've got to get the store rooms full before the rains arrive. No one can do shit when those clouds start pissing everywhere."

"Looking forward to it." Jim tapped one of the crates. "These for me?"

"Came in last night after the raid. Looks like Reynolds found one of Mira's favourite holds. I've had Wallace crawling all over me trying to get a look in."

"Why not let him? It would certainly get him out of my hair. He's started following me around hoping for first pick at anything my team finds."

"I hope you reminded him that he already _has_ first pick, as senior science officer."

"None of that explains why you're keeping his nose out."

The Commander nodded. "You have a point. Come here..." Taylor waved Jim closer toward one of the smallest boxes. He removed his combat knife from his vest and levered the lid off. "I never got the chance to go through this before all hell broke loose last month," Taylor continued. "It was brought in much earlier, found stashed between the rocks at the base of the Purple Falls by Wash's point team."

"Oh yes, I remember the Lieutenant's report. Unlisted items and a small collection of Sixer weapons. She was so pleased."

The Commander nodded. "Missed career opportunity. Wash should have bunked up with the archaeology team." He set the lid aside and pushed the box toward Jim.

Inside lay a fragment of pink quartz, half an inch thick, perfectly flat and covered in microscopic patterns. It was clearly broken off from a larger piece. One side was straight but the other three were fractured from the brake. Jim frowned, picking it out from the packaging. "That looks awfully like a-"

"-motherboard..." The Commander replied. "I know. For the last few days I've trailed through the archives wearing down our only working core and found preliminary research into quartz-driven electronics. Several teams at Hope Plaza were researching it in conjunction with long haul space flight. A team parallel to ours, also burdened with the task of continuing humanity. Hope Plaza wasn't only looking into the past for hope – they had their sights on the sky too. Never got off the ground. When the rift opened the Cretaceous won and the rest is, ironically, history. No point developing space flight for an extinct time line."

"I think I saw a few articles about that. Didn't their lead researcher..."

"Commit suicide? Yes. Failure hit them hard. Their funding dried up and they were shipped back out to one of the outer domes with the rest. One thing is for certain, they never got this far."

Jim set the quartz carefully into its crate. "I'm not sure I understand what you're getting at, sir."

"The fracture in time," he said, closing the crate. "It doesn't only lead to our present – it's jumping through other points in history."

"I know, we all saw that ancient figurehead the soldiers boxed up."

"No – Jim. Not only our past – the future too. A future that's not supposed to exist. That rift isn't gone. I've seen the cracks running all through the valley."

Jim flinched when he realised what was going on. "Sir... I'm not sure that's a good idea."

"I haven't even run the mission by you yet."

"You want to go out and follow these cracks – see what else might have slipped through into our reality. Preferably from the future."

"Is that such a bad idea?"

"Nothing good has come out of the future. Those are desperate times and we look like a moveable feast. Besides, you know as well as I do that the major rifts run straight across the Bad Lands. If you want to find out what's washing up in our time stream you'll have to follow the soldiers. We don't have the resources to leave Terra Nova or wage a war on the fly. I doubt we'll have a man spare for the next decade while we try and rebuild this place. We're starting a civilisation sir, every soul has to focus on that."

"It's all right, Shannon – I agree with you," Taylor replied, drinking the last of his terrible coffee. "I wasn't going to ask you or any of the men to go."

* * *

"This is _such_ a bad idea..." Skye whispered, leaning in toward Josh. The Commander was barking his last orders while suiting up his armoured vest. Reynolds stood beside him, handing the Commander each item as required. "How can he leave now? We're starting to get somewhere."

"Dad tried to talk him out of it," Josh replied. "But he seemed determined to do this. I'm sure he has his reasons. Are you all right?"

"I shot his son, Josh." Skye replied softly. "I don't think he's forgiven me."

"Forgiven you for what? Shooting or letting him live?"

"Both, I imagine."

"You've got that look..." Josh turned Skye around to face him. "You're not thinking of following the Commander are you? Skye... You _can't_. Not only is it far too dangerous but he won't thank you for it."

"He can't be out there alone."

"Wouldn't be the first time." He gripped more tightly to her arm. "Think I'll keep an eye on you until he's well and truly gone."

* * *

"We'll escort you as far as Bone Ridge," Reynolds confirmed. "The relay tower will be placed up high. You should be able to get a radio signal back to Terra Nova from the edge of the Bad Lands. Once you go past the shale band you're on your own."

"I understand," Taylor replied, checking his comms. "Remember, no one comes after me. That clear?"

"Clear," he replied. "Sir – you are coming back, aren't you?" There was a glint of fear in Reynolds eyes. He'd promised Wash he'd keep the Commander safe. He was pretty sure that pact didn't end simply because she was dead. Reynolds lurched forward as Taylor smacked him hard on the shoulder.

"'course I'm coming back," he assured him. "Keep an ear out for me."

* * *

 **TERRA NOVA - CRETACEOUS**

"That's your plan?" Wash admonished the Commander. They were laid out flat in the dirt, gazing at the valley below. One side was walled in by an impenetrable cliff, the rest were open to the jungle, several miles from the ocean. They could see the curve of blue off to their left and rivers winding through the land. Swamps cut off another flank preventing the larger predators from attacking while flocks of enormous herbivores grazed right over the grasslands the Commander had set his sights on.

"What's wrong with it?" He replied, wounded by her tone.

"Phrases like, 'sitting ducks' comes to mind, sir," Wash said. "First group of Slashers that come our way will back us into those cliffs. Hope you like cave paintings because there's going to be plenty of them in blood."

"Always so dramatic," he complained.

"Sensible and dramatic are two entirely different things."

"Like you and me, Wash," Taylor winked. She smacked his arm in reply. "Come on, there's not a lot of nesting spots in this era. This place has fresh water, fertile ground and a reasonably secure boarder. It's also not too far from the time distortion." He reached past her, guiding her line of sight. "See that stretch on the horizon?"

"Looks like some kind of desert."

"Sand dunes," he nodded. "When you're a bit higher up you can see that the whole plateau out there is reclaimed beached. Must be some iron and shale mixed in with the sand to give it those coloured bands."

"Have you been out that far?" Wash tilted so that she was resting on her elbows. It was warm in the sun and up here, on the ridge out of the jungle, the humidity dropped to a bearable level.

"Not exactly," he replied. "I walked along the edge where it meets the ocean. There's nothing to keep you alive in there. No shelter. No water and it's too far from the waterfall to go back for supplies."

"Why would anyone want to go out there?" Wash eyed the hostile terrain. It reminded her of home where the domes latched onto the barren stretches of parched earth.

"The time fracture runs right through it," he explained. "On a good day, if the dust kicks up, you can see the ionised particles swirling in great arcs, following field lines. Whole place is a magnetic mess."

"Even less of a reason, sir. We've both got enough pins in our bones to send us flying."

Taylor cracked a smile and the dragged her off the ground by the scruff of her jacket. "You're right. It's not the ideal camp site but it's the best we're going to find in the time we have left. What do you say we go scouting?"

* * *

A week passed. The rains came and went, sending a fresh deluge of leaf litter over the waterfall with each heavy night. In the morning, Wash and Taylor crept out of their cave – eyes on the surrounding jungle – searching for movement. Patterns could get you killed. There was always a predator laying in wait, taking note of common tracks.

"Have a present for you, Wash," said the Commander, coming back from one of their recons. She emerged from the other side of the pool and fixed him with a confused frown. Instead of replying, Taylor tossed her missing rifle straight into Wash's hands. She caught it easily then beamed down at her weapon, running her hand lovingly up the barrel. "Thought you'd like it."

"You've been back to the previous arrival area?"

He shook his head. "Nah – found it washed up on one of the old tree stumps along the river. That friend of yours is still hunting the area. Heard her a few times squawking."

"Damn. We need that equipment."

"I know. By my guess we've still got a few months before the follow up team is due. We might get lucky and she'll leave before they get here."

"We could always try to flush her out into new hunting grounds. What?"

Taylor was laughing heartily now, quite unable to hide his amusement. Sometimes she could be so determined regardless of the odds. "I fancy all my limbs right where they are," he replied. Even with a full unit there was next to no chance of doing anything other than annoying the creature.

* * *

 _He looks so different._ Wash caught herself thinking. She'd ended up watching the Commander while he drove makeshift fence posts into the ground at Terra Nova. His grey hair fell to his shoulders. Most of the time he tied it back with one of her spare hair ties but they'd been for a swim earlier and he'd left it out to dry. His shirt lay over a nearby bolder, drying off along with her jacket. Their guns were closer, never more than an arm's reach.

"I'm going to start charging a fee if you keep staring like that," Taylor muttered between strikes of the pole driver.

Wash startled and immediately returned to her fence post. It was bloody hard work when you had to scavenge the materials to make the axe to fell the tree and form the posts to construct the fence. Every single thing took a million years especially when half their time was devoted to finding food. There was never enough it. Regardless of how good the fruit hanging off nearby conifers looked, it was all poisonous.

All they had to do was build the fence. If Taylor remembered correctly, this new team was bringing the basics to construct the first housing modules. It was up to him and the lieutenant to prevent opportunistic predators from picking them off while they laid the ground work.

"I hope they appreciate all the trouble we're going to on their behalf," Wash added, a few hours later.

"Probably not. Half-a-fish says they'll whine about the height of the fence and your shoddy alignment."

This was their new currency. "I'll take you on that. I wager it'll be the quality of your posts. Holy heck – is that a snake up there?" Wrapped around a nearby pine, a boa-constrictor the size of a god damn train had looped itself all through the branches. "Twenty metres at least!"

"Titanoboa – or its earlier relative. They're not supposed to get that big but the ones I've seen around here can be nearly twice that in the higher canopy. Don't worry – they're one of the laziest inhabitants. You'd have to piss it off pretty bad to lure it down."

"You ever managed that, sir?"

Taylor winked.

* * *

The ocean rolled against the shore, tugging in and our with the tide. Every couple of weeks they took one day off to explore the area. This time, Wash demanded that he take her to the ocean and he'd agreed, leading her along the river first where they ducked beneath the arching necks of Barosaurus. They were covered in a down of iridescent feathers which fluctuated between emerald and sapphire. Behind their necks, the males had stark patches of red which they flashed at the females. When she lingered too close, Taylor's hand found her arm, tugging her back to the safety of the water.

"They'll still give you a pretty good knock if you take to trying to pet them," Taylor assured her.

"Sorry, sir."

Instead they waded until they reached the beach and immediately found themselves weaving between huge clusters of tiny scavenger dinosaurs the size of chickens, prodding the sand with long, curved beaks. Further out, a fin patrolled ominously. How far back did she have to go to be free of sharks? First ones in and last ones out. They were right up there with crocodiles, lurking through the aeons.

"Is it what you expected?" Taylor asked, as she strolled in front. Her shoes were tied together and draped over her shoulder as she walked in ankle deep water, revelling each wave that brushed her skin. This was impossible in the future unless you were deliberately trying to poison yourself.

"I'm not sure what I expected," she replied.

"A fish, dragging itself onto the shore with flippers beginning to turn into legs?"

"Not exactly," she turned and flashed him a grin. "I..." she paused, choosing her words carefully, "didn't expect it to feel like home."

"Strange, isn't it?"

She nodded. "It's different – so different but this is still Earth."

"The basics don't change, Wash, only the scenery."

Wash paused as another wave hit. He was lingering above the water line, safe from the salt. She didn't mind as the cool waters lapped to her knees. "I meant to say thank you," she added, after staring at him in silence for too long. "For all of this. For bringing me here."

"Did you really think I was going to leave you holed up in some four-by-four when this place was waiting?"

"I deserved to be left there. At least, that's what my other CO said."

"In fairness you smashed him across the jaw with a right hook." And _damn_ if Taylor didn't find that amusing. "I hear he deserved that as well."

"Left half my men behind. Wouldn't go back for them."

"Am I going to have a problem with you obeying orders out here, Lieutenant?"

She lofted her eyebrow at him, backing slightly deeper into the water. "That all depends on the order, sir."

There was something in her eyes that made Taylor back off to a safe distance. She was dangerous, especially out here, alone. They were the only two humans for the next seventy million years, give or take. Or a few months, depending on how you were counting.

Wash watched him walk away, leading her toward the mouth of the desert. It poured onto the beach, spilling through with its reddish sand which, now that they were closer, was littered with fragments of meteorite.

"Dammit!" She hissed, clutching her foot suddenly. Another giant shell the size of her head had scratched her with its razor edge.

"Told you to leave your boots on, Wash..." Taylor called from in front.

* * *

"Is that?" Wash trailed off as she lifted her hand. Above, there was something wrong with the air. Light was hitting it strangely. Like looking through a cracked glass, it refracted casting fragmented rainbows on the air behind.

"Don't touch that..." he advised, stepping around it. He reached for her sleeve, tugging her along with him.

Out there they found more than the sound of waves crashing and the distant screech of roving dinosaurs. Whispers. Distinct hisses on the air. They came from every angle as if they were trapped in a hall of mirrors.

"This is as far as I've been," Taylor said, as they stopped short of climbing the wall of sand to the flat.

"Wanna go up and take a look?"

He hesitated. "Stay close and put your damn boots on."

* * *

The sand was course and hot, left to bake all day. For a while Wash picked bits of meteorite out of it but soon the stones weighed her down and she had to pick a few specimens and chuck the rest. "I could buy a whole unit for one of these," she lamented.

"Well out here it would make a nice paper weight. Wait." He stopped again. "Is that what I think it is?"

They moved forward, both questioning if this was a dream after all. Buried ahead, partially revealed by a ravishing wind, was the black rubber of a tractor tyre. Its rim had rusted completely out but the rubber was perfect, preserved in its silicon prison.

"That shouldn't be here..." said Taylor.

"Neither should we," Wash pointed out. "But here we are and here it is. Come on, give me a hand."

"You're not going to roll that all the way back to the waterfall are you?"

"I bloody am."

And she bloody did. She stood in front of it for many hours while Taylor set the fire in the cave and put a few of those sand-dinosaurs (seagulls, he'd decided to call them) on to roast. "I thought you said you had grand plans for it?"

"I do," she assured him. "Well, I will, once I work out what those are." For now, she settled on transforming it into a strange bed so that for once she could sleep with a sensible gap between her ass and the floor.

* * *

"Can you hear that?" Wash asked, sitting on the small ledge beside the waterfall. Taylor emerged from the cave behind her sharpening a new spear head.

It was raining again. Banks of cloud rolled in from the ocean, hit the ranges and dropped a deluge on them. Thunder vibrated the stone and bright shards of lightning cut across the roof of the world, fracturing it. Beneath all that noise, Taylor could hear the short cries of dinosaurs fleeing.

"She's come back to hunt." Taylor nodded. "Right on time for our guests."

"What are we going to do? We can't leave her here." She was thinking about her team, still scattered out there somewhere. Eventually Taylor had brought back a few packs, the radios and a small assortment of weapons scavenged off the bodies. He never told her what he saw. His silence revealed all she needed to know.

"Maybe. Maybe not. What's she hunting? It's certainly nothing big because they've all cleared out."

Taylor was forced to admit that he didn't know. Information about these creatures had always been sketchy let alone detailed dietary requirements. "I can see where you're going with this and the answer is still no."

"A little recon, that's all..." she pushed. "Come on sir, it has to be worth a look. As you said, if this team doesn't make it then it was all for nothing. Clearly she's sticking around one way or another."

"And if we're on the lunch menu then that team is as good as dead."

"Sir... They're going to be here any day. Last time she cruised about for a week. Those numbers don't add up to anything good."

* * *

She was _huge_. Bristled with a line of black spikes which three feet long each and tracked all the way down her spine, she picked her way silently through the jungle. The first time Wash met the creature it had been a blur of blood and fear. All she remembered was a golden eye and the smash of her feet into the river. Now Wash saw the powerful tail curling around the trunks of sprawling figs – feeling her way around in the dark. Out in the open, her mottled skin looked strange but under the filtered light it made her invisible. If Wash hadn't seen her approach all the way from the river there'd be no chance of making her.

The Commander was a few branches higher in an opposing tree, using the sights from his rifle to watch the surface of the water. The dinosaur, 'Lucy' as he'd named her, seemed particularly interested in the rushing currents. Then, out of nowhere, a sheet of silver launched itself into the air.

Fish. Lucy was fishing. That's why she chased the rains.

Taylor lowered his sights and dropped his head onto the branch in defeat. There was nothing they could do about that. Short of stopping the river their friend was here to stay. All they could do was hope that the new expedition came out on the other side of the river, closer to Terra Nova.

"From now on, we work in shifts," Taylor said, when they made it back to camp. "We watch the valley day and night for signs of the rift."

"What does it look like?"

"Oh – you'll know," he assured her. "Trust me. You'll know."

* * *

It finally happened. Four days later, in the dead of night, the sky above the camp tore itself apart. Purple flashes mixed with green. A sharp flash of fire circled the point where the vortex pushed through. Wash picked up her radio.

Together, they fled through the night, scampering too fast for anything to hunt them. Taylor was in front picking the route while Wash kept her eyes on the forest. They had to be here somewhere. At the start of the grasslands, they found them.

The third team assembled within the area of grass burned flat by the vortex. Rovers came through first, lights on with their engines frightening off any of the smaller predators. Like all the rest, the people that came with the machines had collapsed on the ground, knocked for six by the change in air.

"Easy – easy!" Commander Taylor said, when he reached them. They were startled by his presence, reaching for their weapons but barely any of them made it before he'd calmed them. "I know you all feel like hell but we've got to get this moveable feast on the road right now. Everyone in the trucks. We'll drive."

They picked the healthiest of the crew to help bring in the six trucks. Taylor took the lead and Wash brought up the rear. In fact, they didn't manage to check any of their new arrivals until everyone was inside the rudimentary compound they'd built. As soon as the gates were closed, Taylor set fire to the perimeter surrounding them in a roaring glow. Safest thing for it.

"Okay, I realise you're all feeling pretty ordinary right about now," Taylor announced, as they helped everyone into the clearing at the centre of Terra Nova, "but it's important you all sit down and take slow, steady breaths. The nausea will pass faster if you sit. Questions will be answered soon. That's it, down on the ground. Lieutenant, see to it everyone has some water."

"Sir," Wash nodded, then started moving from person to person. Most were civilians but there was a scattering of armed reinforcements – a sight for sore eyes. She was halfway through her rounds when she stopped suddenly. Those eyes. She'd seen them before. In her dreams – every day. The Commander's eyes and yet it wasn't him. "Lucas...?" Wash whispered. "Is that really you?"

The Commander's son laid back against the rover. His head spun. Sweat dripped off his forehead in torrents, soaking through his uniform. There it was, printed straight above his left pocket. _Lucas Taylor._

"Can I get some water?" Dr Malcolm Wallace had turned an unattractive shade of green. "God, is it always so hot? It's like suffocating on lava."

"Something with which I'm sure you have extensive experience," Wash lofted one of her eyebrows, leaving Lucas for a moment to attend Wallace. "You're our chief science officer."

"Yeah and who are you?"

"Your welcoming party."

* * *

"Sir – sir..." Wash had to drag Taylor away from the rover carrying their new supplies. "Before you go all 'Christmas morning' I need to tell you something."

"Well, out with it then." He chided impatiently. "If you haven't noticed we're all lined up like a buffet out here."

"I know, sir." And suddenly she found the words evaporating in her mouth. "It's one of the scientists – he wasn't on any of our briefing reports."

"Okay well – we can brief once these guys are all on their feet and we've slapped together the flat-pack housing."

"No – no _sir_..." Wash insisted, grabbing his arm sharply.

That made him pause. "Wash?" He shifted his gaze between the hand on his arm and her strangely mesmerising eyes. "What's going on."

"Lucas is here."

* * *

"Looks like my timing was a little off..." Lucas smirked, pointing to the unusual silver hair tied back sharply on his father's head. It was nothing compared to the litany of scars scratched into his face as though he were a map. That was all the enjoyment managed before Lucas hurled the last of 2140 into the grass.

Taylor didn't know what to say so he patted his son gently on the back. "I have to go for a moment. We'll – we'll talk. I promise."

Wash watched from a distance with her stomach twisting in knots. This could only go badly.

"Wash!"

She jumped at the Commander.

"Why's that housing cube lying in slabs on the floor?"

"Sorry sir..."

* * *

It wasn't pretty but it was a damn sight better than an empty field with a bit of wooden fencing. Taylor took a step back to admire Terra Nova basking in its first light. Over the last ten hours they'd managed to erect a single walled structure. _Walls_. Made of super-light metal rather than bark. Strong enough to ward off most curious claws. The next buildings sat in crates ready to rise into the light.

"I'm even less sure about this than I was when we built the damn fence," Wash confessed, tilting her head awkwardly as she observed their progress.

"A bit of positivity might do you some good," Taylor advised. "Look on the bright side. Yesterday we were certain they'd all be eaten the moment they stepped through the portal – or dumped in the lake. They've survived the whole night. I'd call that a good innings to start."

"Now I'm really worried. I haven't seen you this chirpy since Morton Bay."

"Good night," he nodded appreciatively.

"If you count the sixty-seven stitches I put in you."

"I still maintain it was sixty-eight."

"Right. If you're going to be impossible for a while, I'm going to go help turn those crates into a warehouse." She was a few metres away before she spun around, pacing backwards. "He's waiting, you know."

Oh, Taylor knew.

* * *

 **TERRA NOVA - 2150**

Taylor found himself back on the dunes with their restless sand scratching against his boots as the descended the last flows of rock from the ridge. For a moment his gaze lingered to the East where the ocean met the sand. He could see the intrusion of desert where he and Wash recovered that damn tyre. His indulgence ended and he returned his attention to the sweep of ruination laid out before him.

"Where'd you go, eh?" He asked the desert. Surely all those men couldn't simply vanish but then, dunes were deceptive. They rolled like the waves, appearing flat from one angle – concealing chasms on their flanks.

In truth, he didn't care where the soldiers went in this hell as long as they stayed out of his way. Taylor spent several hours staring at the sky, watching the light play around the fractures in the space-time continuum. It didn't take a scientist to see that they were getting deeper. Whatever was happening here, it was getting worse and for once humanity wasn't to blame. Something much bigger than a few hominids having a laugh with a nuke or two.

Taylor picked the most aggressive wound and set off toward it. Deserts, like ice fields, were incredibly deceptive. It took the rest of the day to reach the anomaly.

"Holy heck..." he whispered. There was no need to wait for a portal to open – it was already there, bleeding between two particularly nasty cracks. He could clearly see the quantum fluctuations writhing against one another in a space about the size of his arm. Not big enough for a human to pass through but...

Taylor looked down to the sand beneath his feet and found it awash with fragments from another time. Specifically the twenty-first century if the ancient cell phone case and assorted wrappers laying half-buried were anything to go by. He knelt down, fishing the Nokia out of the dune. It stuttered to life. The faint sound of a different ocean seeped through the crack.

He slipped the phone into his pocket and kept walking, following the fault lines deeper into the Bad Lands.

* * *

"How long's that been now?" Reynolds checked his watch.

Jim beat him to it. "Two days, five hours. No word from the comms yet. Should I start to worry?"

"Start?" Reynolds nearly choked. "I started worrying when we lost Wash. The last time something like this happened – well – he went a little mad."

"Yeah, I know," Jim replied. "I was there when he re-lived a bit of it. He seemed okay when he set off."

"He seemed _motivated_ ," Reynolds corrected. "Different thing entirely. Whatever he's up to, I sure hope he's thought it through. Oh god. Here we go again..." He nodded at the approaching chief science officer. "We should have let him tag along with the Commander."

"Be nice..." Jim insisted. "If we give him a hard time, my wife takes it out on me then my daughter will take it out on you."

"I've been looking for you two _everywhere_!" Wallace panted, using his wide-brimmed hat as a fan against the suffocating humidity.

"Dr... Didn't you have an important project with my wife all day?"

Wallace nodded. "I did – I mean, _I do_. That's just it. We were combing through the boxes of intel brought back from Mira's many camp sites. Anything useful was distributed among the medical and research teams. She was helping me. That's when we found this..." Wallace held up an old, hand-written journal with ratty pages and burn marks in the cover. The possession looked as though it had lived a hundred lifetimes before winding up in Mira's camp.

"You rushed all the way over here to show us an old book?" Jim asked.

"It's Lucas's journal." Now Wallace had their undivided attention. "From his early days – before Terra Nova. From what I've already skimmed through, this is the preliminary research that started the entire operation."

"Yeah well, we already knew that Lucas was in this over his head." Jim replied.

"Lucas doesn't interest me," Wallace cut him short. "His research however, is fascinating. You see, everyone's been so focused on making these portals in time move two ways that we've entirely skipped over one important fact... They've _always_ been two way."

Jim shook his head. "Come on, you know as well as I do that our expeditions can only come through in one direction. Until recently, of course but that was a one off. The modifications Lucas made were destroyed."

"Our portals were one way – the natural rifts are _two way_ and they always have been. Pieces of the world have been mixing together for god knows hows long. Taylor worked this out. That's why he's gone to the Bad Lands. He's looking for a natural rift big enough to-"

"Whoa – hold on a minute," Jim raised his hand, stopping both Wallace from speaking and Reynolds from scurrying off in a panic to collect his CO. "What's he want to go and do that for? The Commander _loves_ this place. He'd never leave it."

"If it were just a matter of geography, I'd agree but Shannon, we already know that the it's not only time being messed about here."

"Get to your point, Wallace."

"Alternate versions of reality. Taylor's looking for _someone_ not something."

* * *

Taylor sank to his knees in the sand.

Night fell.

He found himself surrounded by ghosts. They flashed across the sky above him – buried in the sand beneath. Soon they were in his dreams as he lapsed into sleep. Most of it was white noise but then he'd hear a flicker of clarity. Sometimes it came as canon fire from a raging sea battle. Then terrible music welling up from a night club. More often than not it was simply the roar of a creature roaming behind the veil. In his darker moments, Taylor almost wished it would come for him.

Surely he'd lost enough now? The only breathing remnant was skulking about the wildness, plotting the annihilation of Terra Nova. He couldn't decide what he hated more – what Lucas had done or the simple truth that he still loved his son.

It was easier out here.

His dreams wandered to Somalia. There were dunes there too. Deserts that consumed entire domes leaving them as strange bubbles in the dirt where humanity raged against the dying light. Sometimes the domes gave way under the weight of sand, collapsing into terrible pits of screaming and death. Lieutenant Washington is there. She sits on the foot of the chopper, listening to the count down. Then she's straight over the edge, zipping down a rope and straight into the sand. He's next – braving the rush of sand that tore at their suits like glass.

Local militia are already inside, crawling through the dome where his wife works. It's a military outpost with a scientific research branch. Ayani Taylor was their diplomat, liaising with the local warlords – keeping them at bay for as long as possible. _Not long enough_ , Taylor remembers thinking, as they enter the main habitation. He looks up to see half the dome covered by sand and several worrying cracks making them way across the glass. Sand rains down from them, streaming through like a dozen waterfalls.

"Commander, sir..." Wash taps him on the shoulder. "Last transmission is this way."

* * *

Taylor woke to find a tiny scavenger nestled on his chest. The dinosaur – who could normally be found in flocks along the water's edge, had settled down on his chest, tucked his nose under a layer of long, pink feathers, and drifted off to sleep. The weight of its warm, sleeping body was both alarming and comforting. The task of removing it was less easy.

He gathered up the water collected during the night and took his rations carefully. Then he was back on his feet, heading further into the desert.

Three days in, Taylor made it to the top of an enormous dune. At the crest, the sand was so soft he was nearly at his waist. Behind, the drop made his head spin. Unlike mountain climbing there was _nothing_ to use as purchase. Comically, his head appeared over the edge first then two grasping hands. With great effort, he swung his legs over and laid there, exhausted on the threshold.

The desert continued below but not the dunes. It was replaced with parched, cracked plains. The occasional eruption of a primitive cactus was the only thing to break the monotony.

Except for the bodies.

Those were rather obvious, strewn over the ground and left to rot.

* * *

 _Poor formation_ , Taylor thought, as he approached the massacre. The convoy had been ambushed. The first vehicle was knocked onto its side while rest swerved, ending up at random points with their doors open and bodies tipping out. The rest were on the ground, left wherever they'd fallen. All of them, too. Taylor quickly counted and it was near enough to what he thought the soldiers had left after their last fire fight.

They'd been dead a while but Taylor soon spotted the signs of trauma usually associated with a carnivore attacked. It was odd. Dinosaurs usually ate a significant portion of their kill even if it was provoked. The only marks on these bodies came from the killing itself. Slasher sized or slightly smaller. Fast and strong enough to knock the rovers over.

He should take their supplies back to Terra Nova immediately. Cut off from the future, they could use all the equipment he could salvage. As soon as he was finished, he intended to do exactly that. As if in promise, he spent the rest of the day stripping the bodies and loading the rovers. He'd need help bringing it all back but one was a start.

When he was done, he used the cool evening air to travel faster, heading for a particularly large crack that had started glowing brighter throughout the day. He had a feeling that it might be about to open.

* * *

"Are you suggesting that we should go after him?" Reynolds asked, leaning against the wall of the Commander's office.

Jim paced, not comfortable with the thought of occupying the Commander's chair. "Unless you have a better idea."

"I presume you mean, aside from following orders."

"Not very good orders."

"That – really isn't the point..." Reynolds was clearly torn. "Look – I want to be out there with the Commander as much as anyone – more than anyone, I'd say, with the mood he's been in lately but an order is an order. He's always got a good reason for them, even if he doesn't share."

"This is personal for him," Jim lowered his voice, even through they were alone. "As much as I hate to say it, Wallace is right. We can't leave him out there chasing ghosts. I think we can all agree that we've screwed around with Time enough for now."

"All right. All right..." Reynolds eventually relented. "But if anyone asks, this was under duress. No – actually, better not say that. Wouldn't look good – a cop getting the better of me. Sir. Mr Shannon, sir." Oh god. He was going to suffer for this later, one way or another. Why'd he have to go and fall in love with Shannon's daughter, of all the girls in Terra Nova?

* * *

"Do you think he's out here?"

"Oh, he's out here," Jim assured Reynolds, as they left their rover at the edge of the dune. They'd driven it all the way up the beach, coming in from the side instead of the ridge. If Wallace's estimates are right, the Commander should have reached the solid ground by now. They could reach it with a rover so long as they were careful. "Look at that!"

Reynolds was already looking at it. "I wish I could unsee that," he admitted. "It's not exactly what you'd call, 'reassuring'..."

Jim thought Reynolds had a point. It looked as if the sky was about to shatter like crystal at the opera.

* * *

There was more debris up ahead. In the moonlight, it was easier to pick out from the sand. Canon balls by their dozens had rolled into the troughs of the dunes while peeking out from the side of the main dune like a rib cage was a full galleon. Its body was in a state of decay but it was mostly whole, wrecked in the sand with shredded sails flapping in the night air.

Taylor approached in awe. How big had the rift been for an entire ship to slip through? Enormous...

As far as anyone knew, there was only one crack in time in the future and it led here. One time stream locked with another. The population was so dense that it was literally impossible for cracks like these to go unnoticed. These rifts – they were everywhere. Linking different times – different realities, all converging here in the middle of the Cretaceous. What if this was the source – the apex – the heart of the time disturbance? And if it was, what would that mean? That this truly was the dominant time stream or were they merely a place holder keeping the rest of reality in check? There was so much they didn't know about the world they'd chosen to live in.

...Maybe it was all for nothing and this world was heading toward a sudden gasp into oblivion, torn about by paradox.

Lucas probably knew.

The force of a nearby tear opening threw Taylor aside as if he were a leaf. He hit the dune hard, grasping at his chest in a futile attempt to catch his breath. It took a few minutes before he was back on his feet, standing before the new portal.

Six feet tall, only a couple wide and oddly tilted it had more in common with a torn stitch than the fabric of time.

Fascinated, Taylor leaned in close, his eyes falling closed as he listened for signs of life.

Water.

No – a shower. He cold hear the pound of water against tile and the accompanying cloud of steam. It was eerily familiar.

Taylor withdrew his hunting knife and edged it toward the surface of the tear. Then, with great care, he risked brushing the blade against the event horizon. It went in smoothly but that meant nothing. At the moment he was at equal odds that his favourite knife had simply been dismantled, atom by atom.

Drawing it out of the tear revealed the truth. His knife was fine. This truly was a portal that could transmit in both directions without any help whatsoever.

Taylor was about to explore further when suddenly he heard singing. A woman's voice, it came from the same tear as the shower. He should have walked away right then. This was a moment that great historians talked about. The one time a fork in the road opened and a world-altering chance emerged.

Wash.

He could hear Wash singing on the other side of the rift.

* * *

 _'Make the most of it,'_ they said, handing her a towel. _'It'll be the last time you experience comfort for a long while'._

Well, Wash was rather of the mind to have a word to the Director of Hope Plaza regarding the definition of 'comfort'. It certainly didn't cover the standard issue towels that dropped lint over her legs like an over-zealous cat. Or the size of the shampoo bottle. You couldn't wash a mouse with that. It probably had something to do with the latest trend of servicemen going bald. No thank you. Practical as it may be, Wash was a thousand percent sure it was never going to come into fashion for her.

Eventually she gave up on the sad shower and wrapped one of the insufferably thin towels around herself. Dripping her way through the locker area, Wash found herself staring at her open locker door. There, stuck pride of place, was a photograph from her old hunting days back on the team. Her eyes drifted to her CO, standing front and centre like a proud lioness. It had been too many years since they'd worked together. She intended to tell him that, soon as she arrived.

She wondered how Taylor was faring. A whole day on his own in the ancient past. It couldn't be easy, even with the supplies he took through. She'd been with him in the jungle before. The last frontier on Earth where there were still animal large enough to hunt them down. Those nights were dark.

Wash stashed those memories away with the photo, placing it in her backpack ready for departure.

She sighed when she heard boots enter the locker room. Her best laid plans of preparing alone had been thwarted. Thankfully, the room was thick with steam, obscuring everything but the heavy walls and piercing lights above. She lingered on them for a moment, thinking how like stars they looked.

* * *

Taylor emerged through the steam, his fingertips brushing over the wall of lockers. They felt strange – unreal, as if he'd stumbled straight into a dream. Perhaps this was exactly where he was. Another one of his torturous hells of departed friends.

No... The damp stuck in his throat and standard issue soup reminded him of his years spent in barracks exactly like this.

She appeared as a silhouette, framed against the down lights. Wash had her back to him. He could see her long, dark hair meet the edge of a towel and her footprints on the floor. She was real and he couldn't breathe so he stood there like an idiot, transfixed.

* * *

Wash heard her name whispered and turned to find Taylor beside the lockers, frozen in place. Their time lines hadn't crossed in time for her to meet him before he'd set off to Terra Nova. Her shuttle was held up in a dust storm and when she finally arrived, he'd already embarked on a one way trip. So what on earth was he doing here, standing in the locker room with all of hell written across his face.

"Sir?" She swallowed her surprise. "I thought I'd missed you. Word was you were already through. Sir?" He wasn't saying anything – or registering her words. Wash risked a few steps, carving a path through the steam. "Are you okay, sir? You look..."

...like he'd waded through an ocean to reach this room, sold his soul and made a wager with the sun.

"I did miss you..." Taylor finally replied, quite unable to marry the image of her laid out on the table with the woman casually towelling off her hair in front of him. She as alive and she was dead. Both were equally true.

She smirked. "I thought as much. What's it been? A few year-"

Wash was cut short as Taylor reached out, catching her by the arm. He dragged her in against his body, spinning her until she found her back on the lockers. His lips crashed against hers and she found herself melting into his lips. Her body writhed in surprise as her lips parted, allowing her CO's hungry tongue to claim hers. It was all consuming. The burn under her skin – the scent of salt on his. If this was another one of her dreams then so be it. Wash would gladly submit to the feel of his hands on her back.

They kissed until another law of the universe forced them apart. Both gasped, searching for breath. Taylor tilted his head to the side and pulled her closer, holding her tight against his body as if he were afraid she'd evaporate like the steam.

"Sir – sir..." She whispered, pressing her lips to his ear. "What's going on?"

Eventually he pulled back, leaving her against the locker wall draped only in a towel that was threatening to fall. "Do you trust me?" Was all he asked.

Those eyes of his were set on her. "Always..." she replied, not sure if it was safe to reach for his arm.

It was the Commander who offered his hand. "Then come with me."

* * *

With her backpack slung over his shoulder, the pair of them tumbled through the crack of time and fell on the sand. He hit the ground first, landing on his back. There was another brief moment before Wash's full weight was on him, crushing them both into the dune. Draped in a towel, she lay against him in the moonlight. Almost immediately her head began to spin.

"Steady there, Wash," the Commander cautioned, rolling gently off until she was sitting in the sand with her head between her knees. "It's perfectly normal. The air here is different. It'll take a moment to wear off."

They sat side by side with his hand gently rubbing her back. He watched the seam in time shiver, reflecting a false view of the world. It was fading fast, rippling as though the wind had it. That's the problem with these natural portals – they were unstable. Soon it would be gone forever. Wash had no idea what she'd agreed too. She'd simply followed his lead, as she always did.

* * *

 **TERRA NOVA - CRETACEOUS**

Lucas was faring worse than the other colonists. He'd been laid out in the shade for nearly two days, dripping sweat into the dirt with a bottle of water beside him. It had gone warm long ago and tasted bitter on his lips. His nausea had nothing to do with the heavy air. No, it was withdrawal from the ioniser. As it turned out, humans could become addicted to more than elaborate combinations of carbon. All the scientists involved in his research had the same sallow, pale skin and sunken eyes. They longed for the hum of their ionised core. Lucas's team had to share it with a rival and when their project was cut, those that were expelled couldn't face life without its presence.

"What are you doing here, Lucas?" Taylor asked, kneeling beside his son. He watched over him with a constant air of suspicion. The death of his mother had changed him for the worse. Not every wound left marks in the flesh. Lucas's were buried deep. In and out of trouble. Always courting the worst corners of the world.

"Or, 'hello' as most parents would say," Lucas coughed up what felt like half a lung.

"You know what I mean," Taylor replied, helping him drink more water. It was the only thing that would flush his system of whatever the hell it was he'd been taking. "Your name wasn't on any of the lists. This is a top secret operation. How did you get here?"

"Top secret for some," he replied, steadying himself as the water scraped its way down his throat. "This is my hobby. Oh come on... Don't look so shocked. What did you think your son was up to for all these years? Scratching a living at the University grading papers? Not my style."

To be fair, Taylor never imagined that his son was studiously training the next generation. "Not quite."

Lucas started to chuckle to himself. "You think that lot back at Hope Plaza figured this out on their own? Bunch of second rate professors, scared of their own shadows. That's what living in a bubble all your life does to you. There isn't a daring bone left in their bodies. People like that don't take the risks required to crack a puzzle like this. Guess I get that from you."

"This is _your_ project?" Taylor stammered. It was going to take a while for Taylor to stop seeing Lucas as his little boy and begin to realise that he was a fully fledged nightmare.

"Put my own name on the list."

* * *

"Something's not right about that one..." Wash kept her eye on the Commander's son. A week laid out and finally he'd gained the strength to wander around the fence line, checking the connections. She preferred it when he'd been unable to walk. Made it easier to keep track.

Wallace, whose head had taken to exploding several times a day as new discoveries poured in, barely acknowledged Wash. "What? Oh – yeah. Maybe. Did you see this?"

Wash rolled her eyes and leaned over Wallace's shoulder. "Yeah. In the flesh. Tried to tear one my legs off. Aren't you supposed to be focusing on this water pipe?"

"I'm the Chief Science Officer not an engineer," he complained.

"Mmm and Strousse is a medic but he's still knee deep in Cretaceous swamp. Commander?" She said, spotting her CO wander over. He had a fresh wound on his arm courtesy of a falling branch.

"Can I have a word?"

Wash followed him outside the fence toward the tree line where a particularly dramatic pine provided much needed shade. Part of her wished that they'd built Terra Nova in the forest but the other, more sensible side, quickly reminded her of the array of creatures waiting in the shade to tear them to pieces. "If it's about your command centre, I've already added it to the list of things to be done this week. Right after the med bay is up."

He waved her concern off. "I'm perfectly happy with a cave, you know that. It's about..."

"Lucas..." Wash already knew where this was going. The Commander had been on edge ever since he'd arrived.

"I'd like you to keep an eye on him."

"Already got both eyes on him, sir. Is there anything in particular I should be on the look out for?"

"I'm not sure," he admitted. "From what I can gather, this whole little experiment is his doing. Not the colony – the portal."

"You're _kidding_!" Wash felt unnerved.

"He put his name on the list for this expedition and that got me thinking. If he has control over the teams coming through the portal then he could have stopped me." He paused, letting that sink in. "If he's able to stop me from coming to Terra Nova then he could have done something much worse."

"I don't follow."

"What if Lucas orchestrated my presence here? You know, I've been thinking back to how this all started and it doesn't add up. An old friend rings me up, out of the blue and returns a favour. A recommendation for a mission a damn sight better than a desk job. Of _course_ I'd say yes. Leaving that world behind was exactly what I wanted to do." He gave her a rare, soft look. "I thought it would be best for _both_ of us. Our profession is dying out. Neither of us want to spend our years bashing down civilian doors. There's no honour in that. No adventure."

"You're not wrong," Wash admitted. "Confinement was never really my thing. I thought I'd miss the comforts of the future but I don't – not for a moment."

"That's because you like the mud, Wash," Taylor winked.

"True but what about Lucas? If anyone could hate a world without technology, surely it's him? What's he doing out here in the middle of the jungle?"

"Survival? He knows that our world is dying."

She shook her head. "I don't see it. You've seen him. This place makes him ill. As much as you might wish it, he's not here for the company."

"No, you're right there."

"Which means there's something on Terra Nova that he's looking for."

"I agree. So – about keeping an eye on him..."

"Both, sir."

* * *

Lucas came good eventually. For a while, he played his part in the creation of the colony which surprised the Commander to no end. He helped put together several of the main habitation units – fixed the power relays and wired up a second batch of back up generators from spare parts. He was even what might pass for as 'popular' with some of the scientists, reminiscing by the huge fire they built every night to keep the predators away.

The Commander let his guard down gradually until there were some days where he didn't watch Lucas at all. Not Wash. She was always somewhere close by.

"Is that _gin_?" Wash was surprised by a bottle placed in front of her. She and the Commander were always furthest from the flames, preferring to linger with moonlight on their backs while the rest of their settlement wound down.

"Afraid so, Lieutenant." He let her take the bottle. "A gift from your new mate Wallace. Apparently he doesn't drink any more."

"He's not my _mate_ ," she corrected. "I took his place digging trenches on the proviso that he finish the water filters. Which he did."

"I don't care how you earned it, long as you open it."

* * *

They ended up laying in the dirt, side by side as the last embers of their fire smoked into nothing. The others had retreated into the shelter leaving them alone with the stars. They lay closer than they should, arms pressed together and her hair occasionally whispering over his cheek.

"We should have brought an astronomer," she said, smiling at the endless ink above.

"Believe me, they tried to come. Most of them have never seen the stars."

"Go on – let one of them in, soon as we establish communication. For me."

"You going soft on me, Wash?"

"Not at all," she assured him. "It's only – there's this huge rock on its way and I'd like to make sure I know its schedule."

Taylor laughed softly and turned his head to look at her. "This is the Early Cretaceous," he replied softly. "We've got more time before that rock hits than humanity has in our future before the air chokes them to death."

"It's different, isn't it?" She replied, also tilting her head. Wash found him staring at her through pale, blue eyes in a manner that sent a pleasant shiver down her spine. "Knowing how things are going to end..."

"Life wouldn't get very far if it started asking those questions." He paused, noticing a sadness wash across her. "This isn't the same place that we left. The moment we arrived here we began a parallel time stream – an alternate world. We don't know what's waiting in our future any more than we did before." Taylor trailed off when he felt her hand tangle with his. _Too close_. "Wash..."

"Shut up and watch the stars, sir."

* * *

There was no measure for how much Lucas resented the sight of his father laid out by the Lieutenant's side, gloating with their happiness. _That would all end_ , he assured himself, as he ducked under the barrier and headed out into the jungle. It wasn't the first time he'd seen them like that. It might have been a different world – a different country but he remembered the way they looked at each other. Somalia would never leave Lucas. It had left a stain on him.

Unknown to the Commander, Lucas had send many things to the portal already including a set of drones that marked the nearby area. He followed the map, keeping to the rivers where he could move faster.

* * *

"I don't understand, are you certain you've searched the camp?"

"Sir, he's not here. No one has seen Lucas since last night," Wash assured him. "There's no sign of animal activity in the area around the camp which can only mean that he left on his own."

"Tracks?"

"As far as the river, then they end. I'm sorry sir. Sending our only patrol out to look for him would be madness."

Taylor knew that she was right. They could barely hold this place from a Slasher attack let alone send a team untrained for this terrain out on a search. "I know – I know..." He kicked one of the crates.

Wash sighed. "I should have been watching him, like you asked."

"Not your fault, Wash," he assured her. "Lucas came here on a mission of his own. He'd have slipped away eventually."

"Do you want me to find him? I can if you ask."

"No," he was firm with her. "These people are our responsibility now. Lucas will come back when he needs something. Until then, we make the best of what we can."

* * *

"What is that?" Taylor asked, peering over Wallace's shoulder.

The scientist startled. Manual labour wasn't his thing but all of them had to pull their weight. He took his breaks in the company of his field notes. The Commander had a habit of sneaking up on him. Wallace wasn't sure if it was a display of his stealth skills or a hint that he was a sitting target for any passing carnivore. "Uh – my notes," he replied, self-consciously.

"On?"

"The portal, actually," he admitted. "You see, I've been thinking about what you said – how it opens up at random in the valley. When our follow up teams comes through with all their kit we're going to have to hope the end up nearby."

"I know. I was there when you drew up the recovery plans."

"Indeed." Of course he was, why did the Commander make him so nervous anyway? "Well, I took the liberty of brining the portal specifications of Hope Plaza with me. They're planning on bringing a ring through with them and assembling it on this side to give the portal something to latch onto when it's formed. It won't be for a few expeditions yet but I thought I might get the jump on things so that I'm ready when it's here. You know – in case anything happens." Wallace closed the book. "Ah, it's more Lucas's thing. I'm sure that's why he insisted on coming along. If anyone's going to be able to piece a bridge together on this side, it's him."

"For now, keep reading," Taylor insisted. Lucas was still missing.

* * *

"Thought I might find you here..." Wash dragged herself up the final ledge. She wiped the freezing water of the falls out of her eyes as she entered the cave. As expected, the Commander was there, sat beside his dinosaur skull, staring at the fire.

Their cave was covered in a fine curtain of fresh web laid out by the spiders that had moved back in. It must have been five months since they'd been here and everything was exactly as they'd left it. Including the Commander, it seemed.

"Did you think Lucas was here?"

Taylor shrugged. "I don't know where he is." Another twig was tossed into the flames. Too green to burn, it smoked. "Did you follow me, Wash?"

She smirked. "No need. You're about as difficult to read as a copy of Dover."

This time he laughed warmly. "You shouldn't be reading shit like that."

"And you shouldn't be out here on your own without telling anyone what you're up to."

"Is this going to be one of the famous Wash pep talks?"

"Sorry sir, as you know I only do a swift punch in the face." She sighed. "They were going to kick me out anyway..."

"Of your unit?"

"Yeah," she nodded.

There was a lingering silence between them. "I read the report," he admitted. "Your CO didn't leave the team behind. Why'd you really hit him?"

 _Of course he read the report... The vetting process for a mission like this must have been extensive._ "He did leave someone behind. A young girl. Sometimes I can still see her clinging to the burning remains of her home. He told me there was no room in the colony for her. We disagreed on that."

Taylor shook his head. "No one could clear papers for parent-less child."

"I know," she replied, "but he didn't have to be such a jerk about it. Actually, I'm surprised they cleared me for this mission – all things considered."

"I might have tugged on a few strings."

Wash felt that warmth back inside her. To think that at some point he must have stood in a General's office arguing the point for her place on the mission... "It's not guilt, is it?" She asked carefully. "Because you know full well that you don't owe me anything."

Taylor owed her everything, not least of all his life. "Perhaps I missed your nagging. Honestly, you're here on merit," he promised. "It's a tall order to cut yourself off from the rest of the world – possibly forever. Most officers, no matter how good they are, lose their mind a little. You and I, we lost our minds a long time ago. Not sure it's possible to go for it a second time."

"You have a point there," she assured him. "The civilians seem okay," she added. "I think they're overwhelmed by the influx of discoveries. It's like bloody crack to them. Be a while before they get bored and started questioning their future. Do you think they're going to make it to the next drop?"

"They'll make it."

Wash laid back against the cave wall while he sat by the fire, watching it crackle and spit into the depths of the cave. "We don't have to tell anyone about this place. Can't hurt to have a hide if it all goes pear-shaped. Oh, and I had an idea about what we can do with that skull of yours."

* * *

 **TERRA NOVA - 2150**

Wash hadn't said a word to him for nearly an hour. It was the depths of night. The desert air had cooled and she could hear the sea somewhere to their left, hugging the shore. The moon was cut into a crescent, drifting toward the horizon while the stars had been scattered in unfamiliar patterns.

"This isn't what I expected," she exhaled, lounging in the cool. "It's silly but I'd imagined jungles – rain, mud..."

"That's what I got," he replied gently. "Mixed in with all that deluge are predators waiting to pick you off and drag you into the shadows. This is far more peaceful. If I had my go again I'd like it to be like this."

The nausea had passed and she felt the first rush of increased oxygen. It was like the opening stages of intoxication. Now that they were calm, Wash realised she'd come to a whole new time period wearing naught but a standard issue towel. "Oh... god." She looked down at herself.

"There anything in your pack, Wash?" He was almost amused.

"Did get around to packing much, sir."

He shrugged out of his jacket and draped it over her shoulders. She shifted into it, rolling up the sleeves and buttoning the front. It didn't solve all her problems but it was a start.

"How did you get back through?" She asked, looking at him curiously. "The portal is one way at the moment and I feel sure someone would have mentioned it if you strolled back in."

"That's not the portal at Hope Plaza," he replied, pointing to the place where the rift had been. "I know it seems strange but I've been gone a lot longer than a day. For me, it's been several years..."

"Years..." She whispered. "Sir, you weren't alone..."

"For a time, yes. The other expeditions eventually joined me and after a fashion we had something resembling home. Terra Nova's not a collection of crates on those rovers you saw them prepping – it's real."

"It's not supposed to start happening until tomorrow." She was struggling to wrap her head around what had just happened to her. "There's something you're not telling me," she added, her voice dropping. "You forget sir, I know your poker face and I can read it like a satnav. The time jump went wrong, that much is damn sure but there's more..." Clearly there was more. Why else had he kissed her so desperately?

"Wash I-"

"That a rover?"

"Looks like..." Taylor replied. They'd been interrupted by the approach of headlights, rising and falling as it conquered the dunes. "Dammit! I told them not to follow me."

"Having trouble with orders, sir?"

"Wash – this is going to get a little weird," he tried to explain, scrambling to his feet.

"I'm here in your jacket, a towel – surrounded by the Cretaceous desert and you're worried about this getting weird?"

* * *

 _This is seriously weird..._ Thought Wash, squaring off against Reynolds and Shannon. Reynolds she knew _barely_ by reputation mostly. A shining reputation actually, annoyingly polished. Shannon – well, she didn't have the faintest clue who he was but he seemed pretty chummy with the Commander. He didn't yell at anyone quite so passionately unless he cared.

While Shannon and Jim settled their differences, Reynolds took Wash aside. His jaw was left somewhere on the ground where it'd fallen in shock.

"I'm guessing I know you," Wash opened, as they stepped around to the other side of the rover, using it as a barrier. "Don't worry, the Commander sort of explained. Things went a bit wrong with the time line."

"Yes," Reynolds replied softly, "we knew each other."

There was so much hurt in his voice that even Wash picked up on it. "Oh – we don't have a thing, do we?" It took another moment for her to catch on to his past tense word choice. "Knew... You mean, you don't know me any more – because..." The pieces were falling together too fast. Reynolds was confirming her assumptions with the tears brimming at the edges of his eyes. She looked over the edge of the rover, catching a glimpse of the Commander. _That would explain it._ "Shit. I'm dead. How long ago?"

"Couple of weeks," Reynolds replied. "We were friends, Wash – good friends." And damn it, this was the same Wash. Every detail was identical. He wondered if there was another version of him running around. _Stupid question, of course there was._ All that considered, Reynolds was pretty sure she hadn't fully grasped what was going on here. "I'm – going to hug you now. Please don't hit me with anything."

"Do I do that?"

"Often," Reynolds assured her, before tugging her close for a hug. It couldn't be said that Wash was particularly cuddly but to feel her alive and warm in the world again was the sort of miracle that he was prepared to accept.

"How did I die?" Wash whispered, while they embraced. "I don't think the Commander will tell me the truth."

"You were shot," he replied softly. "Point blank, protecting the Commander and his team. It was honourable and brave, Wash."

She gave a short nod. "Good. I was worried I'd go the way of an Allosaurus snack."

"Actually, those died out a while ago," said Reynolds.

"If I'm dead, what was the Commander doing in the present sniffing around Hope Plaza?"

They parted and Reynold's hands returned to rest on his weapon. He knew never to let his guard down, even if the world seemed quiet. "That's what Shannon's raking his arse about now. We came out here to drag him back to Terra Nova before -" Hell, it was too late now to worry. "Before he did any damage to the time stream."

Wash bit her lip. "Guessing I'm the damage."

"In a matter of speaking. You're from a completely different time line, Wash – like all the fragments we keep digging out of the desert. When he took you, he changed the future of your world."

"You mean, there's another Commander out there – another Terra Nova waiting for me?"

"Yeah, that's what Wallace says."

"Right or wrong, you can't put me back. The portal thing closed behind us a few moments after we came through."

"Noticed that." Reynolds eyes drifted down to the towel around her waist covered by the Commander's jacket. He wasn't sure what was going to be more difficult to explain, her being suddenly alive or the attire. "Let's just hope Wallace is wrong about the world ending paradox."

"Do I know him too?"

"Jim?"

"If you say so."

"Well enough. He's our only cop. Snuck into the expedition after breaking out of a correctional facility. He's married to one of our medical officers and has three kids here at Terra Nova. I'm ah – dating his eldest."

"One more thing, Reynolds," Wash reached out, catching his arm. She presumed they were friendly enough for that to be okay. "You don't have any spare pants and boots in that rover, do you?"

* * *

"Mother of..." Wallace dropped the specimen onto the table. It was the middle of the night – the entire camp was asleep but he'd stayed up after the radio call came in. He'd killed the waiting hours with a bit of casual research into nesting Raptors. Now, the failed egg lay as a shattered pile of shell and go beneath him. None of that mattered. "Commander, with all the due respect -"

"Do yourself a favour, Wallace and abort that statement." The Commander cruised in with Reynolds, Jim and Wash in tow. Jim simply shook his head in defeat while Reynolds found himself grinning. Wash – well, Wash was _alive_.

"Fine _fine_... Sit her down over there."

"Come on – all I want is a shower and change of clothes – do we have to go through this now?"

"Oh yes, we certainly do!" Wallace insisted, humming around the resurrected Lieutenant. "The universe doesn't like paradoxes. Each one picks at the stitching of our reality, you get enough of them and _poof_ , all of reality could implode. Most believe that it will attempt to protect itself from things like this happening."

"Maybe I'm just not that big a deal?" Wash offered. "The universe probably can't be bothered."

"Let's hope that's true..."

* * *

Wash was there for nearly an hour before the Commander shooed him away. It was Reynolds who finally accompanied her back to her old quarters which had been left untouched since her duplicate's death.

"Are they going to argue all night?"

"Jim and the Commander? They'll have words, that's for sure."

"I can't believe all this is out here in the middle of the jungle," she added, turning every now and then to take in the camp.

"It's looked better, actually. We've recently survived a nasty raid that ruined most of the buildings and -"

"Killed me. I guessed."

"Pardon me for asking but you seem very relaxed about the whole thing."

"It's only been a few hours," she replied. "When I read the reports, I thought I was coming to Terra Nova to die. There were a lot of unknowns on those mission briefings. Frankly, I wasn't even convinced I'd survive the portal. In the end, it was all rather easy."

"That does sound easy. I came with a group of colonists transported directly into a lake. Nightmare. This is it..." He stopped at her habitation unit. "No one's touched a thing, Commander's orders. There's a radio inside – call if you need anything. We'll be around to collect you tomorrow. Do you ah – mind staying in until then? It's only-"

"I'm dead. I get it. You don't want a corpse stumbling around camp."

"Please do me a favour and refrain from phrasing it so bluntly around the Commander."

* * *

Wash showered first then changed. When she felt human again, she took a circle around her habitation. _Incredible_ , she thought, perusing the sentimental items lined up along the bookshelf. Mostly she found claws, teeth and feathers scavenged from the jungle. Knowing her, they all had meaning. Then she came upon the photo. _The same photo from her bag_ only faded and creased in different places.

"Gods above..." she whispered, brushing her fingertips over it. Wash moved over to her bag and extracted her copy then held the two side by side. _Worry about it later_. Wash laid the photo down and headed to the bedroom intent on sleep.

* * *

"It's not her, Taylor." Jim had been pacing the Commander's office for hours.

"Or _course_ it's her," Taylor replied, sitting behind his desk. "And you're going to wear a hole in my floor."

"I mean, it's not the Wash you remember. Whatever it was that you shared-" Jim was trying to be delicate. Truthfully, no one knew what was between those two but there was _something_.

Finally, the Commander tired of Jim. "She's alive and exactly where she belongs."

Jim strode right up to Taylor's desk. "What about the other you, waiting for her?"

A flicker of recognition moved over his eyes. "He can look after himself." _At least he won't have to watch her die._

* * *

Wash was a novelty at camp for a few weeks. The Commander gave Wash her old team back and soon enough she was leading patrols and training with the others. This time around, she found herself the student in Cretaceous survival. There was days, more often each week, where everyone forgot that the first Wash was dead.

She found the grave site on her own. It lay under a beautiful pair of trees with a view of Terra Nova. Instead of laying flowers, someone was planting them – tending to them carefully.

"So," she said, taking up her usual seat on the grass. "I've been going through your stuff – reading mission logs. Don't worry, I've made a note to put more effort into those things. Talk about a dry read."

"Talking to yourself is the first sign of madness," said a voice from behind.

"Sir – I didn't hear you sneak up."

Taylor was holding a small bag of seeds which he'd come to plant. He decided instead to lie. "The botanists need a chaperone. I volunteered you."

"Gee – thanks." Wash frowned at the sad look in his eyes. "It's okay to miss her – me. I know she's still dead. Are those for me?" She pointed to the small satchel he was trying to hide.

"In a fashion," he handed over the bag of seeds.

Wash smiled as she unravelled the tethers. "Why don't I give you a hand, plant them together?"

Since their arrival back at camp, everything had been painfully professional. Whatever the lapse the Commander had earlier, he'd avoided mentioning it. _Wash couldn't avoid thinking about it._ Every now and then she felt the ghost of his lips.

* * *

"There's something I've been meaning to show you," Taylor said, as they began their walk back to camp. "Do you have time for a detour?"

"That all depends on my CO," she grinned. "He works me like a damn slave."

There it was, a crack in his stoic face. It was very nearly a smile. "He'll make an exception for this."

Taylor took Wash along the river, telling her about the other Wash's arrival in Terra Nova.

"You were right about the sand dunes being more civilised," she said, after he'd finished. "What about yours?"

"Oh I spent more than a few days sleeping in trees. Wash – careful, I know they look friendly but they really don't like to be touched."

Like her predecessor, Wash had a habit of petting curious wildlife. "It's not far now."

He took her all the way to the cave beneath the falls. Wash stepped inside reverently. It was as though his soul had knit itself into every surface. _Home._ That's what it felt like. "Oh yes, this is what I imagined."

Taylor was shy – a peculiar look on his otherwise strong features. The only other person he'd told about this place was Reynolds and even then it was only so that he could help lift the dinosaur skull out. He watched Wash wander around the cave, lingering at various items right up until she found the enormous tyre with bedding strewn over it. Ridiculously out of place, she couldn't help staring.

"Is there a good reason for this being here?"

"I'm not sure," Taylor admitted. "That one is yours."

That'd be right. She had a habit for collecting miscellaneous items. Tentatively, she lowered herself onto it.

"Verdict?"

"Surprisingly comfortable. Are those crates mine too?"

Taylor followed her eye line to the pile of boxes partially hidden towards the back of the cave. She had bloody good eyes to spot them. "No. When it became apparent that Terra Nova was about to come under attack I moved the more sensitive items here for safe keeping. It's mostly fragments but that's all we could find of Lucas's research before he disappeared."

"You believe he's still alive?"

"Oh, he's out there and believe me, this isn't over for him. I figure that if we can work out what he came looking for in the first place we might have half a chance at finding him."

"Any luck?"

"Not really. All I know for sure is that it's in the Bad Lands, no doubt in the direction the army fled before they were slaughtered."

"We never worked that one out either." Wash pried herself free of the tyre and roamed over to him. "You've been holding back with me but I'm ready. This will never be over if we don't go back there and find some answers."

Taylor shook his head. "I'm not ready," he corrected.


	2. Tide

**TERRA NOVA - CRETACEOUS**

"Are you kidding me?" Taylor rose from his chair, glowering at Wash. "When did this happen?"

"Afraid not and a few minutes ago. We pulled Lucas out of ditch near Grid 6. Turns out he was the cause of our mystery black out last night. Lad was trying to thieve power from our new generator. He would have succeeded too if it wasn't for a curious lizard biting straight through the wires."

"Is he all right?"

"Disorientated – a few electrical burns on his hands but otherwise, yeah, he'll live, sir. The medics are bandaging him up."

"I'd ask you to post extra guards on the hospital tent but they're all out on patrol."

"Got that covered," she assured him. "Brought a pair of handcuffs along, just in case."

The air shifted between them. He wasn't going to ask how she managed to smuggle handcuffs through Hope Plaza's security. "Maybe don't let that get out."

* * *

"What were you thinking, pulling a stunt like that?" Taylor sat beside Lucas. The hospital was literally a sprawling tent with a few custom made re-enforcements that creaked in the wind. "If you need power for your research you could always trying asking. There's a line of requests that stretched out my door every damn morning and I do my best to agree to them. We're all out here together, Lucas. You don't have to work alone any more."

Lucas was struggling to think clearly through the pain. His skin felt as if it was on fire where the burns were deepest. He looked down but all he could see were his two heavily bandaged limbs leaving him a virtual prisoner. He'd have to play nicely for a while until they healed. "Old habits, dad." It was so pathetic, watching his father sit there in a state of perpetual confusion and misplaced affection. "I prefer to work alone."

"I don't doubt that but son, things don't work that way on Terra Nova. Trust me, I been down that path."

"I cracked the translation for the time difference between Hope Plaza and Terra Nova," Lucas carefully diverted the subject. "From now on we'll be able to prepare for the new arrivals instead of wildly guessing. Also got the radios working. That's right – two way communication. You can finally place those supply orders you've been waiting for." Lucas tried out a grin with mixed results. "As you can see, I get a lot done on my own."

The Commander nodded cautiously. "All right but next time if you want something for your research _ask_ and I'll try and sort something out. Terra Nova survives because we preserve a patch of order in an otherwise hellish world. If you go about throwing sticks the whole damn place is likely to come down."

* * *

Wallace had his arms firmly folded across his chest in passive defiance. He didn't like it one bit. "He's blind as a bloody bat," he complained of the Commander, as Wash stalked in.

"Bats aren't blind, Wallace but I take your point." She unclipped her heavy assault rifle and placed it on the table beside Wallace, who glanced at it warily before continuing his rant.

"Lucas disregards all my orders, runs off – sabotages our resources and then what? He's welcomed back without so much as a strong word? The Commander is being played and I'm surprised you, of all people, can stand it. Look, I don't know what Lucas is up to but those kids at Hope Plaza were into something a lot heavier than a cute settlement in the Cretaceous. You spent some time skirting around the innards of Hope Plaza, did you see anything?"

Wash shook her head. "I was pre-occupied with packing for the expedition. All I saw was a lot of steam and piping. Actually, some of it was basically scaffolding."

"It felt unfinished," Wallace agreed. "I got the same impression for their command centre when they took me on a tour. It made me apprehensive about the whole thing but I figured my chances of survival were about even between a ruined planet and bungled experiment. As far as I could guess being ripped apart by the quantum time flux was a good death."

His tone might have lightened but Wash understood where he was going with this and worse, he was right. She felt that the Commander's judgement was utter shit where Lucas was concerned. "The Commander isn't as soft as you think he is. He might not show it but he'll be watching Lucas. I'll be watching him too, a lot closer this time."

"I'm sure he's watching Lucas but that doesn't mean he has the nerve to do anything if the time comes. Could I run a favour by you?"

Wash frowned. "That all depends on what you want..."

* * *

What Wallace wanted was a second pass at the area where they picked Lucas up to see if he left anything behind that the first team missed in their sweeps. Wash went alone during her free time. She'd spent enough time with the Commander on Terra Nova that the lack of fences didn't bother her as much as the other settlers. Quietly, in the protective heat of the day, she returned to the power module. It has been repaired except for a dusting of soot.

Wash strolled around it, casting her eyes across the ravenous scrub that rambled nearby. You could lose a body in this mess and be none the wiser. She decided to widen her search to the tree line where grass was replaced by a base of leaf litter. It wasn't long before she picked up Lucas's tracks leading deeper into the jungle.

Intrigued, she followed, heading toward another small river that cut deep into the ground turning the water navy. The trail ended in a cluster of rocks that rose up around the stream forming an oasis protected from the larger dinosaurs. She shimmied down the rocks until her boots hit the water in a shallow area. It was cool and fresh. Wash stooped to drink then explored further until she discovered evidence of a camp. A fire. Scraps of leaves that might have been a bed. Then the really interesting part. _Writing_. Hundreds of equations were scratched madly into the rock around the camp.

"What are you up to, Lucas?" Wash whispered to herself.

* * *

Wallace's head hit the crate he was using as a desk. He'd been at it for days and still _nothing_. He wasn't sure what vexed him more – being unable to decipher Lucas's plan or the halo of mosquitoes buzzing above. _The mosquitoes_ , he decided. They were true vampires, coming back for third helpings. God knows what viruses might be transmitted through their feasting. At the moment he was simply hoping that humans were so far outside the current evolutionary band that nothing could attack them. That would change.

"Take a break."

"Jesus, Wash – you've got to stop sneaking around base came."

"This is how I move normally." She deposited a small camera in front of him. "All I could get. There's no more sketches on the rocks."

"Not that it matters, I can't read the ones you brought me already."

"I thought you were supposed to be smart?" Wash mocked softly. Wallace was not in the mood.

"Lucas invented an entirely new mathematical language – it needs a cypher to make any sense of it." Wallace smashed his fist onto the crate this time, crushing a mosquito full of his blood everywhere. "Oh – gross. That's horrid. This place... Jesus." He picked a crumpled leg off his skin.

"You get used to it," Wash assured him, tugging the scientist away from the crate.

"Do you? The domes suited me fine. Nice and sterile. Certainly not full of vampire bugs."

"Come off it, Wallace, you don't fool me. I saw you making friends with a small dinosaur the other day. Dare I say you were 'fond' of it."

Wallace scratched his mosquito bites. "Maybe. That doesn't help me with this..." He signed at Lucas's equations. "He could have the secrets of the universe here or directions on fixing the pump. I don't know."

"I'll tell the Commander you need another few days."

"Stretch it out to a year even then I think it's safe to say we'll learn nothing."

* * *

"He's a bit slower at this sort of thing than I remember," Taylor replied, after Wash finished her update. He was only joking and the glint in his eyes betrayed his amusement. Not everyone caught it but Wash was always on the lookout for that twinkle. "No rush, Lucas isn't going anywhere for a while."

There wasn't anywhere to take a seat so Wash lingered nearby in the shade made by the sails strung over them. "I've been wondering, how long has it been since you saw him?"

"Wallace? Endless briefings before I left on the first expedition. Actually if it wasn't for him I probably would have starved to death a few days in. Oh, you mean Lucas?" He sighed in resignation. Of course she did. "Before I left, four years. We spoke on the phone a couple of times – an email here and there. Mostly my updates came from friends or institutions. I followed his research in the news, of course."

"He hasn't dealt with it," Wash replied softly. Neither had the Commander but she wasn't sure how to start that conversation. "Shame we didn't bring any psych-heads with us."

"Lucas doesn't need a shrink, he needs a bit of hard work and a reality check. The Cretaceous should dish out both of those in droves."

"He's not like you, sir." She added carefully. "You deal with grief by going out and building a civilisation – aren't you a little bit concerned that he might take joy in tearing it down?"

The Commander didn't want to hear it. "That'll be all for now, Lieutenant."

Wash deflated as she moved to leave. "You're both so bloody stubborn."

* * *

"You too?" Wallace asked, joining Wash at the drainage tunnel. They were keeping an eye on Lucas, trailing him around camp now that he was back up and walking about. Despite their efforts he hadn't done anything particularly suspicious yet.

"Sadly we can't linger. If Lucas's calculations are correct the next expedition is due in this afternoon. The Commander is assembling a team ready for collection."

"Any word about where they might pop out?"

"No. The rift in time is unpredictable. We know _when_ but not _where_."

The 'where' turned out to be the centre of Sapphire Lake. They'd been waiting nearby when the sky split apart. A flash of blinding light struck the area over the water and then the tear emerged, shimmering in the midday sun. A moment later, colonists spilled through – screaming briefly at the three metre drop before they were abruptly hushed by the water.

"You gotta be kidding me!" The Commander growled before swearing bloody murder. "Everyone, looks like we're getting wet!"

Wash led the team into the waters, dragging out flailing civilians first. Swimming was a basic requirement of joining Terra Nova but with their lungs saturated with unfamiliar air, panic set in. It took every single one of them to drag the new members out of the water. They were left strewn over the bank, mewing at the strange world.

"Pretty much everything you ordered is sitting at the bottom of the lake," Wash reported, wringing water out of her soaking wet hair. The Commander, who had remained on the shore to co-ordinate the rescue, set down his gun and raked his tank top over his head revealing his tanned, bare chest which was covered in a layer of sweat from the insidious humidity. Wash did her absolute best not to stare but there was definitely an appreciative sweep from her gaze. "Coming for a swim, sir?"

"Why not... Lovely day for it."

His boundless optimism curled her lips into a grin. "Yes, sir."

* * *

They dove into the waters of Sapphire Lake as the sun shifted, casting darkness around the rim. From above, shadows lay in the shallows where their equipment sat submerged. A spotter in a tree helped guide them overhead before they dived down, collecting the lighter objects first until finally, they hauled cables down and latched them to the crates and sunken rovers. It was four days before everything that could be retrieved had returned to camp. They lost kit but no lives.

The Commander showed a particular interest in one of the arrivals.

"Reynolds," he greeted, waving the young Private into his command tent. It was littered with fold down chairs but still no table. "Nice of you to join us. How's the wrist?"

Reynolds held up his arm to show the bandage. "All good, sir," he chirped back.

"Welcome to Terra Nova – hell of a welcome too, I must say."

"I wasn't bored," he replied.

Reynolds hadn't been affected by the environment and while everyone else lay helpless on the bank, he'd set out into the water to begin saving people. "You did well out there." He paused, letting the other man settle. "As you can see, it's all a bit fresh on Terra Nova and with the loss of the second unit we're running short on soldiers. I'd like you to be my third – report to Lieutenant Wash and train some of the civilians up as fast as possible before the weather turns and the predators move in. What's funny?"

"You, sir. This is a very different briefing from the one I had at Hope Plaza."

"Rose petals and blue skies?"

"Standard issue bullshit, sir."

Taylor nodded. "How much did you all know about what happened to us?"

"Nothing, sir. We're all still on the first run settlement protocol. For us, it's been less than a week since settlement began. They won't stop to evaluate until the situation until the communication beacon is set up."

"Is that what we dragged off the bottom of the lake?" That made Taylor wonder what alternate solution for communication Lucas had been working on.

Reynolds nodded. "Every last screw. Needs a bit of air drying but Wallace has given it a once over and thinks it'll be fine. They're giving us two days, Hope Plaza time, to get it all set up and running."

"Bloody hell, that's about a year on our end. Did you manage to track down that manifest?"

Reynolds handed it over. "I've had it amended with the items we salvaged. Sir, there was something else that I thought you might like to have a look at." Reynolds dug around in his pockets before he pulled out a folded piece of paper. It had clearly been drowned then left to dry in the sun. "Before I left, General Philbrick handed me this."

Taylor took the paper and unfurled it on the ground, smoothing it out. "It's a map of the area," he said. It looked as though it had been taken from a drone – which was impossible. "See, here's Terra Nova in the valley with the mountains behind. The lake where your lot were dumped. The ocean running along and then the desert." The Commander paused, his finger lingering over the desert. Somewhere in its depths there was a maker. "There's nothing in there. Did the General say what he wanted me to do with it?"

"That's just it," Reynolds shifted uncomfortably. "I wasn't meant to give it to you – it's for Lucas." He'd disobeyed a direct order from his superior by brining it to the Commander. "Look – I know I should have done as the General asked but there's something not right about the whole thing."

"It's all right. You did good." The Commander folded the map back up and handed it to Reynolds. "Give it to Lucas, as you were told."

"Are you _sure_?"

Taylor nodded. "We never had this conversation – you never showed me this. I want to see what he does with the map."

* * *

Reynolds was good. He strode over through the med tent looking for Lucas.

"Are you that scientist?" He asked.

Lucas narrowed his eyes at the soldier. "Probably."

"Message for you from General Philbrick – meant to give it to you earlier but I forgot you know, with all the near-drowning. Sorry, it got a bit wet."

* * *

"Took the bait..." Wash hissed in satisfaction. _"Sir?"_ She whispered at her radio. _"You were right. I'm watching Lucas cut through our South fence right now. What would you like me to do?"_

" _Nothing, Lieutenant."_

 **TERRA NOVA - 2150**

Wash decided that she loved the cave. The waterfall at its mouth never ended. It rushed over the entrance regardless of the world outside. Permanence. That's what it had. A gasp of serenity in the chaos.

She and the Commander had been picking through Lucas's recovered research. He was bent over a pile of papers, digging through them in a fruitless search for answers. The rest of the colony thought he must be mad. The chances of Lucas surviving the gun shot wounds on his own were slim but the Commander thought that he was alive and Wash was prepared to trust a father's instincts.

As he leaned forward, Wash saw two sets of dog tags peak out from his shirt. She'd been close enough to read them before but she'd never questioned him about it. They were hers, resting around his chest. The more she discovered about the lost time on Terra Nova the more fervent her belief became that he felt a great deal more than he said.

Eventually, Wash set her notes down on a rock and came to sit beside him – so close that their knees brushed together. Taylor felt the graze of her warmth and lifted his eyes. His Lieutenant had fixed him with a curious stare aimed directly at the dog tags around his chest.

The silence dragged between them.

As always, they made excellent warriors and terrible poets. Neither could think what to say yet they both knew exactly what the other was thinking. Lucas wasn't the only one with an indecipherable code. The one Taylor shared with Wash was unbreakable.

"Time didn't end," Wash offered first. "Wallace was wrong. It was a hell of a gamble bringing me here, sir."

Taylor could have sworn her dog tags burned against his chest. "It was worth it," he replied, his voice dropping to something close to a whisper. "And I'd do it again."

"Then you're an _idiot_." She chided gently. "Terra Nova is all humanity has left. The future is fucked – there's no going back for any of us. Every single person we ever knew is going to suffocate before the death knell. Whatever the future is for this planet, it's got a tough road ahead and a few nasty knocks." Whether they liked it or not, there were half a dozen sizable asteroids between them and humanity's glorious future. "One day, no matter what you and I do, the forests will burn – then they'll freeze. The continents are going to shatter and drag apart. Sea levels will rise then drop a dozen times and if we're lucky, very lucky, enough of the civilisation we build will survive to teach the humans that are currently ferreting out a living on the forest floor. We'll end up like the gods, sir – a myth buried in the past."

"What's you're point, Wash?" He asked, feeling her hand suddenly press lightly on his knee. Taylor wasn't sure what to do about that so he held her eyes in his gaze. They were such a clear, pale blue that Wash was sure they harboured ice bergs from the future.

"My point, _Nathaniel_..." His name made a rare appearance on her lips. "Is that you can't go risking this for a single soul – especially not me. You got lucky. The universe turned a blind eye." Wash shifted her hand, lifting it to touch the dog tags on his chest.

Taylor swallowed hard. She didn't understand. He'd watched her die.

 _Wash tried to steady her nerves. She hadn't felt his way since Somalia with the constant orchestra of destruction reaching crescendo around them. Another explosive shattered the dome and the desert rushed forward, smashing the rest of the structure – cleaving away immense, razor sharp sheets of glass. They fell ahead of the sand, splitting the world in two wherever they landed. Taylor gripped onto her back and dragged her out of the way as one hit the ground in front of them. They vanished in a cloud of sand. Wash heard the glass hit the ground right beside her head. She must be dead. Her eyes remained shut. Her hands gripped her weapon until her knuckles turned white. Dead. She was dead. Then Taylor's voice cut through the hell._

" _You still with me? Christ! Look at yer – not a scratch!"_

 _He was on top of her having weathered the worst of the debris. She reached up, cupping the left side of his face with her hand. His skin was sticky with blood pouring from a fresh wound. "Sir... You're hurt."_

" _And you're fine, Lieutenant. Let's go."_

 _She'd been prepared to go but his body pressed her down to the ground. Even through their armour, she was sure that she could feel his heart pounding. The roof above them groaned. A waterfall of sand streamed into the room, dropping thirty feet into the dome._

"Are you still with me, Wash?" Taylor asked. For a moment she seemed to have left and vanished into memory.

"I was just wondering," she recovered, her hand still against his chest. It was only then she realised that she could feel his heart beating _now_ not in the past. "How much of my reality is the same as yours."

"Wallace thinks they were exactly the same right up until you came through the time portal. At that point, an alternate reality split away. It got a bit complicated after that. To be honest, I don't think any of them really know how this thing works. What's on your mind?"

"That day you showed up in the shower rooms," she admitted, now trailing her fingers absently across his chest. Every time she moved, Taylor's skin burned.

"Were you thinking about _this_ , specifically?" he asked, before leaning in. Taylor caught her off guard, almost missing as their lips brushed. He felt Wash moan in soft surprise. It was gentle – fleeting and questioning. When he pulled back all Wash could manage was a nod. "Did you want to talk about it or-"

This time it was Taylor cut short as Wash slid her hand up around his neck and pulled him back down into a second, heavier kiss. She was ready – lips parted, mouth waiting for his. The last thing Wash wanted to do was talk. She wanted to feel what she'd dreamed since that day. _God, did she feel._

They rolled from the boulder to the cave floor – then again toward the waterfall where the mist covered their increasingly naked bodies until they were left laying breathless with nothing but the thunder of the falls. Side by side, Taylor tangled his hand with hers and they continued to say nothing – preferring the world as it was, a silent mystery.

* * *

"Jim, did you see where the Commander went?" Wallace wandered over to their resident cop who was currently back to his old job of gardening. As it turned out, no one else was game to climb the compound wall to lash the vines.

"Nope," he replied. "Probably the same place they always go."

"Bit strange ain't it, vanishing together in the middle of the day?"

"Best not to think anything, doc," Jim advised.

* * *

"What's going on with the rift?" The Commander asked, standing above the valley with Wallace. The sky was crackling like water in oil.

"Since we lost the portal it's been building up energy – looking for a fresh point of release. See – over there," Wallace pointed to the sky above the desert where another partial rainbow glimmered above the surface. "I think there's a fault line developing on the edge of the bad lands. It's all guesswork but it'll probably break soon – or the whole thing will explode." Wallace caught Taylor fixing him with a stern look. "I'm sure it won't explode."

Taylor set the binoculars down warily. An exploding sky wasn't a problem he could fix. "It's all pointing to one inevitability."

"We're going to have to go back out there and take a look." Wallace sighed. "Yeah. I worked that much out on my own."

" _'We'_ includes you, Wallace. No point us going if you're not there."

"I know." All his life all Wallace had wanted was to be 'needed'. This wasn't exactly what he'd envisioned.

* * *

They left Jim in charge of Terra Nova. Wash was supposed to stay and oversee but she refused to be left behind. No one was prepared to go to war with the Lieutenant and so an expedition of four went out. Washington, Taylor, Wallace and Reynolds. All of them were armed with heavy shelled shotguns and as many sidearms as they could fit in their combat pants. The Phoenix army might be dead but whatever dispatched of the soldiers was roaming about the sand.

"Eyes up," Taylor barked.

Wash took point, sitting on the roof racks they'd mounted to the rover. She could see much further from her roost, guiding their way over the dunes toward the deepest cracks in the sky.

"You see anything up there?" Reynolds asked.

"Oh plenty," she replied. "Sky, sand, cracks in reality and not one dino."

"That's good..." He replied. "Keep looking. They're out here somewhere. I can always feel it when I'm being hunted..." Taylor said that last bit to the pair in the rover with him. Wallace gripped his gun nervously. Combat wasn't his thing.

As they drove towards the new crack in the sky, Wash noticed that the amount of meteorite scattered over the ground increased. Soon, the magnetic fields were so strong that their radios had been reduced to an angry hiss and they were left to navigate by the sky and looming shadow of mountains in the distance.

"Oh hell! Watch out!" Wash launched herself forwards, gripping the rope strung over the roof of the rover. Lifting up from the depths of the dune whose crest they'd only just cleared was an enormous arm of sand arching fifty feet from the foot of the dune. She could hear the metallic rustle of metal and sand writhing together like blades.

Reynolds stamped his foot on the rover's brakes. Its front axle dug in. All of them veered sharply forwards as it stopped short of the cliff edge. Beneath was a lethal drop.

"What – the heck – is that?" Wash stood up on the roof of the rover and leaned as far as she dared. A rush of hot air ravished her face. "Guys – _guys_..."

* * *

Wallace's mind was on the verge of exploding. He sat on the ridge, head in his hands, feet dangling in the abyss while he simply stared at the scene below. He couldn't quite fathom the vessel laying half buried, turned on its side, beached in an ocean made of dust.

"That's – not a Spanish galleon..." Taylor breathed, bookended by Wash and Reynolds.

"No sir, it's not." Reynolds agreed, the dinosaurs forgotten.

It was, however, a ship. At least three times the size of Hope Plaza and far too large to have fallen through any rift in time, it lay on the sand like a fossil, slowly dying. Its hull was made from a metal alloy that looked remarkably similar to meteorite – the same substance littered through the dunes. In truth, there was no meteorite deposits here at all, only the deluge from the crashed ship as it skidded all the way from the ocean into its final resting place.

"I know exactly what that is," Wallace finally spoke. "Driftliner XT – interstellar vessel. I saw the prototype sketches at Hope Springs while I was ratting through their archives."

"The rival project to Terra Nova?" Wash asked.

"The very one but it was all theoretical. They never worked out how to stabilise the hard drives for ultra long flight times." The other three were giving him blank looks so he elaborated. "Our species has had two-hundred years of technological development and most of our shit is still made of sand." He scooped some of the substance beneath him up and let it slip through his fingers. "The problem with sand is the lifespan. It degrades pretty quickly in the grand scheme of things. If you retrofit your spacecraft with conventional microchips a thousand years later all you have is a panel of silicon. We actually debated this problem when prep-ping equipment for Terra Nova but we came short of a solution. That's where the Driftliner XT's crystal drives come in. The life span of quartz is about on par with the universe. The consensus is that it can hold the microscopic pathways inside its structure indefinitely. It was a great idea – truly genius but all that brilliance added up to an impossible budget short changed by Terra Nova. Never got off the ground."

"Well Wallace, looks to me like it's still very much on the ground." Taylor nodded at the crashed ship. "I'm not so bothered by the ship."

"But – but it's _remarkable_!"

"It's also sitting at the centre of the time fractures, Wallace." The field lines and cracks festered around it like a nest.

"Sir..." Wash interrupted. "What if we were wrong. We always said that these rifts in time were a natural phenomenon that we stumbled across but maybe they're not... It could have been us all along."

"That future doesn't happen, Alicia," Wallace replied before the Commander could answer, unable to believe the corpse ship from the future laying in front of them. "Unless. Oh _no!_ " Wallace spun around to the others, a million thoughts running through his mind. Probabilities. Possibilities. He prodded Taylor sharply in the chest. "The present re-opened the project – they'd only do that if -"

"Terra Nova failed..." Taylor realised, with a sinking realisation.

Wallace was nodding. "In this version of reality, the future carries through with Plan B – they build the Driftliner XT. Then something goes wrong." He spins, pointing back at the crashed ship. "The engine malfunctions and fractures time. It falls through and ends up here."

"This must be what Lucas came looking for." Wash eyed the Commander. "Makes perfect sense. It's a haven of future tech."

"A honey trap. You can't backwards engineer the future," Wallace was almost green with concern. "That's – that's like a _super-paradox_. The universe would definitely implode."

Reynolds grabbed Wallace by the shoulder. "Please – give the doomsday speech a break. The universe is tough. Look at Wash. She's here – that's a paradox. Nothing tragic happened."

Wallace was cross as shit. He was surrounded by soldiers who understood _nothing_ of the universe's fragility. It was a house of cards built with rules. "Terra Nova fails in our future, probably because the Commander's out on his own instead of teaming up with our dear Lieutenant Washington. This leads to the commencement of a project that rips a sizeable hole in the fabric of space and time. How can you stand there and pretend everything's fine? We're about as far from fine as you can get."

Taylor went quiet. He figured things were more dire than Wallace calculated. "Wallace – this ship has _always_ been built because it caused the fractures that led to the Terra Nova project in the first place. We're stuck in a self-fulfilling loop. Terra Nova was born to fail. Dreamliner XT is built no matter what we do." He pointed to his boots in the sand. "We _always_ end up here – staring at the end."

* * *

"Sir, careful..." Wash said, as she watched the Commander step onto the hull of the Dreamliner XT. Designed for space, it was mostly smooth at the exterior. If there had been painted markings they were eroded many years ago leaving only a shell. It was leaning in the sand at a steep but they could stand upright if they were careful. Wash looked over her shoulder. It was much higher up than she'd realised. A slip here and they were dead. _"Could you die twice in one reality?"_

"You say something, Wash?"

She must have said that last bit out loud. "Nothing. That look like a hatch to you?"

They all leaned over. "Maybe. I'm not sure what hatches look like on space ships." Reynolds admitted.

"Why would a spaceship have a hatch?" Wash added.

"Maintenance?" Wallace offered.

"All right, would you lot knock it off already and give me a hand with this?" Taylor barked. They assembled around him, kneeling down to help with what turned out to be – absolutely nothing. "Bugger. No hatch. Keep looking."

 **TERRA NOVA - CRETACEOUS**

"I hate this," Lieutenant Washington complained, cooling her heels in the Commander's tent. They were nearly finished building the Commander's room but he'd put himself last on the priority list so mostly it was Wash and Reynolds chipping during free time. At this rate, Terra Nova would be a fully fledged city before he had anything resembling a command centre. "We know Lucas is out there doing something he shouldn't and you won't let me follow him!"

"We're never going to learn anything if we jump on Lucas every time he breathes. Got to let him out on his own for a while, Wash. Make him feel comfortable. You have to trust me on this one. You trust me – don't you Wash?"

Her eyes were narrowed in something very close to a glare. "Always, sir." She sighed softly. "Let me give you a hand with that."

Together, they cracked open a new crate and found another flat pack wall that they spent the next hour putting up.

"Honestly sir, I think it'd be faster to build this the old fashioned way with bits of forest. We did a pretty good job with the horticulture enclosure."

He smirked. "Lieutenant, are you offering to build me a house?"

"Might be. Everyone needs a hobby."

* * *

Build him a house, she did. Wash made friends fast and the first thing she did was cosy up to the the chief engineer who drew a few plans. Within the week she had frame work. Wash kept the plans a secret from the Commander. A surprise, of sorts. Mostly it was a bit of fun to pass the time between Slasher attacks and a close call with an over-friendly herbivore that tried to eat their new fence. Note to self, _do not_ use the local pine as a building material.

One afternoon Reynolds rode in through the gates with dinner literally sprawled over the roof of a rover. A whole Slasher, downed by accident, was presented as a feast. At first, none of the colonists showed any interest in eating the dinosaurs but once word got out that they tasted like the best damn turkey ever prepared, sentiments changed. That's the thing about humans – they adapted fast.

"Oh Reynolds, that for me? You shouldn't have..." Taylor teased.

Reynold's reply was a playful salute.

That night, the fires burned high.

"Wash..." Taylor roamed over through the smoke once the party had been going for a while. It was dark. The people were happy and full, getting to know each other outside their usual daily struggle to survive. Taylor couldn't help his smile as the beginnings of civilisation emerged around him. Setting up buildings, running experiments – they were all distractions from the ultimate goal – to turn this place into a true settlement. For that to happen, people needed to become a lot more than work acquaintances. One day they'd be family. Except him. Taylor saw himself as their guardian. "How's my house coming?"

Wash dragged herself away from her present company and wandered over to him, sipping a local sweetened water. "About that house," she replied. "Reynolds and I have a surprise for you – want to come take a look?"

He did. They walked shoulder to shoulder as she led him up to what was now a lot more than scaffolding. The engineers had built the command centre almost a full story off the ground so that it had a 360 degree view of the colony.

"Best view in Terra Nova. I admit, it's a bit 'Peter Pan'," she conceded, as they climbed the stairs, "but with a few of your touches it'll feel like home."

As soon as he was in the door he started laughing. "Touches like _that_?"

Wash beamed proudly. On the other side of the room was the giant dinosaur skull rescued from the cave. They'd sacrificed a huge piece of perspex and laid it on top as a table. The best looking table the world had ever seen. Actually, it was probably the first table the world had seen.

"I love it."

"Honestly?"

"Genuinely Wash. I – thank you..." He was really touched by what they'd done and it showed. Taylor reached up, gripping her arm gently. It was something he did when words evaded him.

"God, sir... You're not going to cry on me are you? I don't want to lose a bet with Reynolds."

* * *

Lucas wasn't an idiot. His father was letting him sneak in and out of the camp without so much as a raised eyebrow. Oh well. He thought he was being so clever by extending a long leash but as usual the Commander was a first class idiot.

The river was freezing where it rushed around his knees. Lucas stood at the bank, scratching the last few equations into the rock. He dug through his backpack and brought out the radio he'd repaired after its unexpected trip to the bottom of the lake. Even though this place was swarming with people he felt alone. Very soon, he'd be joined by the rest of _his_ people.

Expedition five was his chance to confirm the situation and then it was on. The sixth expedition, most of them his mercenaries.

Lucas packed up his things and made his way back to Terra Nova. As always, the gate was opened for him with a pleasant nod. He returned to his hut and started on the work slave-driver-Wallace had laid out. _Not much more of this_ , he thought. He was so sick of these people. Their dreams were small and painfully naive just like his father. Did any of them truly believe that the whole of humanity could be saved by a small cluster of people eking out a living in the Cretaceous? That the people in charge were simply going to step aside and _die_ without a fight? _God_ , it was laughable. No. His project was the end game. Terra Nova was the politically correct cover – the cutesy public face.

"There you are..."

Lucas lifted his gaze to find Wash looming in his doorway. Unlike his father, Wash shadowed him about camp with an appropriate level of suspicion. Yeah, sure, Lucas could see why his father was interested – even if it made his skin crawl. "Something I can do for you, Lieutenant?"

 _Fall back through the rift, for a start._ "We missed you out at the grid this morning. Slasher faced off against a power up last night – team went out to repair it this morning and your name was on the list except you didn't show."

"Yeah – sorry about that." He barely feigned the apology. "I'll join the second team this afternoon. No problem. Just needs a bit of duct tape, as the saying goes."

"See that you do . Can't have the power grid down when the Slashers go for the fence instead of the generators. You and me, we both look the same to a set of teeth."

 _Vague threats._ "Don't worry, I'll be there. You can escort me yourself if you like. We could use the extra security."

"In case of Slashers..." Wash knew exactly what he was playing at.

"Exactly."

"Fine."

"Fine." He agreed coldly. "I'll see you shortly."

* * *

"Leaving the fox to guard the chicken?" Reynolds observed, standing beside the Commander on his new balcony. They were watching Wash and Lucas load into a rover about to head beyond the fence line.

"And who is the fox in this equation?"

Reynolds frowned. "Wash is many things but she's not a chicken."

Neither was Lucas. Maybe it was just two foxes and a confined space.

Taylor waved him into the main room. Reynolds hadn't revealed that it'd been him and Wash who dragged that great big skull out of the cave. Stepping into the cave had shaken Reynolds slightly. If anything, it brought home the reality that the Commander had truly lived out here on Terra Nova on his own for a long time. A good deal of it was spent with Wash and yet they never spoke of what happened in those months alone. They maintained a professional mask but when they thought no one was watching their gazes lingered. Reynolds noticed almost as soon as his boots hit Terra Nova.

"What was it like?" Reynolds asked, before he could stop himself. "Ah – before the other expeditions arrived?" He was forced to finish his question.

"You're the last person to ask me," Taylor admitted. "That was the _first_ question I got from pretty much every soul. What took you so long?"

"I spent some time alone once and it wasn't an easy thing to talk about. There was a training mission in the Namibia desert – my first day in the field actually. To get to the operations base we had to take a refurbed train running on old track anyway, it derailed and my combat team was left stranded. Right before the accident I'd gone to check in with the comms station and found myself locked in the communication carriage alone. Turns out that saved my life. The ruined air got to everyone except me. That was only two weeks but it felt like an eternity. Sir, I don't know how you made it as long as you did but I do know that it changes you."

"Surviving two weeks in a metal box is harder than a few years in the jungle," he assured Reynolds. "Being alone was easy, in way..." he admitted. "It gave me time to reflect which I don't think I ever would have done. You learn who you are in solitary confinement – and what's important to you. Turns out this place is important to me."

Reynolds nodded. "Yes sir, I can tell."

"Reynolds..." Taylor added. "If the worst thing that can happen to us is a lifetime alone in the jungle then we should consider ourselves lucky. Anything has to be better than a whole species slowly suffocating on a dying world without hope."

Reynolds eventually left the Commander's office realising that he hadn't managed to talk about the Lieutenant. Wash wasn't off limits just difficult to get to where the Commander was concerned.

* * *

Wash was alone with Lucas. She was armed, he wasn't and yet she still felt herself on high alert. The man was dangerous in ways she didn't understand and he had half the Commander's genes. That was enough to make her wary.

"Can you hurry it up?"

"Getting skittish, Lieutenant?"

"Nah – I've got a date with a crate of rifle casings back at camp. Wouldn't want to miss it."

"Here's your problem," Lucas extracted another seared lizard corpse. "God they really like this cabling – see the insulating plastic? They're ingesting it."

"I thought that stuff was toxic – laden with all sorts of repellents?"

"It is."

Terra Nova creatures were getting into everything. "I can fix this power hub but we need a more permanent solution. There's an endless supply of lizards and only so much cabling." Lucas vanished right under the bush for a while, tying together bits of damaged equipment until the whole thing whirred back to life. He emerged, satisfied. "Don't know how you did it – half a year alone with my father in this shambles..."

"It wasn't all bad," Wash shifted uncomfortably. There was something about Lucas that screamed 'substance abuse'. She'd seen plenty like him, drop outs from the army who leaned against the narcotics trade to get their kicks. She kicked every single one out. They all had a mad shine in their eyes. Eventually it destroyed their brain and killed whatever soul was left behind. Brilliant as Lucas was, he'd fallen a long way from the kid the Commander remembered. If only the Commander could see that.

"Mmm... he remembers it rather fondly." Lucas assured her. "All done. Shall we return to camp or are you going to put me in cuffs again?"

"That was _once_..."

* * *

"Everyone ready?" The Commander strode along the patch of forest where the fault line had started to fracture. There was no official guarantee exactly where the portal in time would open and they were missing some parts to complete the special portal Hope Plaza ordered. That said, the Commander had seen enough portals open that he was getting a feel for it. _Wild guessing_ , Wash called it. Wild perhaps but she had to fork out as the tear opened almost in front of their toes.

This expedition party was different to the last. As soon as connection was established, Wallace and Lucas knelt down and began scanning frequencies on the radio system, searching for Hope Plaza. While civilians piled through there was a few minutes of unsettling static.

"This should work!" Wallace growled angrily, before slapping the side of the radio unit. That jolted it into life and a moment later they had a two-way connection established.

"Unconventional if not effective..." Lucas raised his eyebrow at Wallace's barbarity.

The radio was handed to Taylor who moved through the sea of heaving colonists until there was nothing between him and the writhing pool of space-time. "Hope Plaza, come in – this is Terra Nova."

* * *

"Is that it? Looks – well it looks different to what I expected," Wallace admitted. He was kneeling on the forest floor in almost the exact spot where the last portal had opened. Their teams had cleared a patch of land, removed the less than friendly wildlife and begun construction on the oval-shaped portal that was meant to provide an anchor for the time stream. In addition to making the location predictable it was supposed to lengthen the duration of the connection.

Lucas was the only person on base qualified to put the jigsaw together. At least in this enterprise, it was in everyone's interests to get the portal up and running. "What were you expecting? This is pretty much a rudimentary bracket attached to a wall – except the wall is invisible and partially theoretical."

"Great..." Wallace disliked all this science built on probability. He preferred _certainty_. That's why he'd gone into science in the first place. As his father had wisely said, _'if you want certainty boy, take up engineering'._ "How do we test it?"

"Therein lies the beauty." Lucas stood. His hands were covered in fine bandages from his previous injuries. "Unfortunately we can't test it. Basically it's up to Hope Plaza to open the connection again. If it means anything, the fault lines in the air above have calmed down – though that could be a natural reaction to the release of pressure from the last portal." He shrugged. "As you love to point out, it's all guesswork at the moment."

* * *

"Have you seen the list for the sixth party? Lot of strange names on this one. Questionable, even. A few of them have been in and out of correctional facilities for arms trafficking." Wash continued to comb through it. "Oh good – arson and insubordination as well."

"You're going to give _me_ a headache if you continue on like that for much longer," Taylor complained.

"You've been pretty quiet yourself," Wash set the list aside. "What's got you held captive?"

"Nothing that would interest you. Go on – pack in for the night. It's nearly ten."

Wash felt a yawn coming on. "Yes sir but you need to take a look at this list."

Alone, Taylor settled down at his desk and re-opened the message. The sixth expedition was technically going to be the _seventh_. There was a top secret opening scheduled for the portal in two days – Taylor's eyes only. Whatever it was, he doubted it was going to be good news.

* * *

Losing Wash was the most difficult part of the day. Her watchful eye was cast over the entire camp so sneaking out was off the list. Taylor had to invent a patrol to keep her occupied and made sure that he was gone by the time she got back.

Alone, Taylor picked his way back along the well worn path towards the portal ring which glimmered like a monolith. It was late into the evening at the particularly hot day had sucked a sheet of moisture off the jungle which had been pressed down at his knees by the cool air. There was a small patch in the canopy above a few scattered stars peaked through. One of them dashed from its position in the sky, dying out of sight. Beautiful night for it. Calm – dare he say, perfect.

Taylor took up a seat on a nearby rock and waited.

He felt it in the air first. It was charged, crackling across his skin as the vortex build out of sight. Like a snap of lightning, the portal filled and the connection to Hope Plaza took hold. Taylor stood, grazing his fingertips over his weapon – habit. Paranoia. Perhaps a bit of Wash finally rubbing off on him.

He wasn't prepared for what happened next.

"General!" Taylor drew himself into a formal stance. "Of all the things I thought might be coming through, you weren't on the list."

"This expedition isn't on anybody's list, as you are aware." General Philbrick replied sternly. He paced a safe distance from the portal and didn't flinch when it evaporated without a trace behind, sealing him in the Cretaceous. "Official orders," he explained, nodding down at the paperwork tucked under his remaining arm.

Everything was formal. Taylor couldn't describe the feeling of the sudden and rather brutal outranking. "I wasn't aware of any fresh orders."

"Of course not," the General paced forwards. They were lit by Taylor's torch only – a pale light in the endless night. "That is the material point of a covert mission."

Reynolds was right – there _was_ something going on and it smelled off. Taylor took another look at his superior. He hadn't packed anything which was a bold move. "I didn't have you as the sort of man to take up a one way ticket to prehistory."

"Commander..." Philbrick passed over the new orders to Taylor, who immediately unravelled the bundle and ran his torch over the documents.

Taylor felt his chest clench. "No," he said, looking up in disgust. "Where did these come from?"

"Not your concern, Commander."

"It damn well _is_ my concern," Taylor insisted, folding the paperwork up. "You've been here less than five minutes. With all due respect you have _no idea_ what's been going on at Terra Nova. It hasn't been a few days since we left – it's been _years_."

Philbrick nodded, sensing the expected hostility. "We suspected as much. Lucas briefed us on the possibility of time inconsistency between realities."

"What is this, really?" Taylor had instinctively stepped across the path, preventing the General from proceeding on toward Terra Nova. Like a loyal guard dog, Taylor wasn't going to let this rest. "Because from where I'm standing, it looks like bullshit."

The General's fascade immediately cracked. The pleasantries were a thin veil. "Commander Taylor, your orders are to stand down and secede control of Terra Nova to me."

"No."

"No?"

"No _sir_." The whites of Taylor's eyes glinted in the moonlight. "Terra Nova isn't a military experiment – it's humanity's future. So long as I breathe, I'll be standing here."

"This is over your head, Commander," the General made one last effort to reason with Taylor. "But you're right about this place, it _is_ the future of humanity. I've been sent to here as insurance."

"You've been sent here to oversee something, sir but I doubt very much it has anything to do with saving Terra Nova." Taylor started to pace. "What's the story, then? I thought this was about a human settlement but obviously I was wrong. You've found something, haven't you, out in the desert..." Taylor saw a flicker of recognition run over the General. "Of course. Well, I'm sorry General but I'm not going to let you rape this place for the sake of a dying future. This is our _one_ chance to get things right."

Taylor drew his weapon, ghosting his finger over the trigger.

"Taylor!" The General barked at him. "Lower your weapon. Now _look_ , I realise the chain of command has gone fuzzy in the jungle but I am your superior officer."

Taylor wasn't blind, he could see the weapon concealed beneath the official papers. "Senior, maybe..." Taylor replied.

"Lower your weapon!"

"Can't do that, sir. That portal isn't going to open for a while and this," Taylor lifted his free arm to the jungle, "is the Cretaceous. You wouldn't survive an hour out here on your own. If you want a ride back to camp you're going to have to tell me the truth. What is Hope Plaza looking for out there?"

"I don't have to tell you _anything_."

It happened in a flash. The General dropped the pile of orders and revealed a handgun, cocked and ready. He angled it in Taylor's direction with military precision. As his finger rolled on the trigger, Taylor dragged back on his. A splutter of automatic fire ripped through the General's chest. His handgun was set off in the fray, a bullet clipping a branch above them as he fell backwards – dead – into the leaf litter.

Taylor gasped, unaware he'd been holding his breath. Shock gripped him as he stared at his senior officer bleeding all over the ground. _He'd killed him._ "God, you _idiot_!" Taylor hissed at himself. Eventually he found the courage to approach. He knelt beside the corpse, shuffling the papers and gun away. He had to clean this up – fast.

* * *

With the General warm in his grave and the official orders reduced to a smouldering pile of ash, Taylor knelt in the stream and washed the blood from his hands. The water was numb on his skin. All his life he'd believed in the system – in the chain of command... Now he was left with no doubt that the General had orders to kill him if he offered resistance and anyone else on Terra Nova. At best they were a support base for a future team. Taylor shook his head. He'd been sent here as a puppet – soften the landing for the parties coming in later.

There was a rustle in the cycads beside him.

Taylor fumbled for his weapon, lifting the muzzle toward the disturbance.

"Easy, sir..." Wash wandered out of the sharp foliage, covered in scratches with her hands in the air. "I'm not a Raptor."

"Christ, Wash. What are you doing all the way out here? Were you following me?"

"Searching for you – a very slight difference," she assured him. "You look like _hell_ , sir."

Taylor sighed and tossed his weapon onto a nearby rock. "I feel it, Wash."

She observed him carefully. He was kneeling in the stream, seemingly unaware of the water swirling around him full of leaves and debris from the recent winds. Blood stained the folds of his sleeves and his skin was sticky with a sheen of drying sweat. "Have you been hunting out here? Sir..." Wash realised there was something seriously wrong with him. She set her gun next to his and waded into the water, kneeling down beside him. "Talk to me," she implored. "Whatever it is – whatever has happened..."

Taylor shook his head. "I'm not sure it's real..." he whispered. Wash's hand rested on his back. He felt it rub gently up and down his spine and her warmth seep in past his barrier of shock. "God Wash – what have I done?"

Her hand shifted to his face in an uncommon moment of tenderness. He was her CO but right now he was just _Nathaniel_. She called him by name, nearly resting her forehead on his. "I don't care what you did," she promised. "Let me help you."

So he told her...

* * *

Wash backtracked to the portal and circled the area, removing bloodied leaves and the shell casings. When she was done there was no evidence of the General's arrival and rapid departure from the Cretaceous. She'd sent the Commander off to hunt a nearby predator as cover. She met him at the end of the path. He had the creature's lifeless body draped over his shoulder.

"Now you really do look like hell," she assured him.

Which was perfectly because it masked any hint of his earlier encounter.

They didn't see each other again until the next morning. Taylor had felt for sure that as the light rose, so too would the truth of what happened that night but a day came and went. Then a week. Nothing happened. The General stayed buried.

 **TERRA NOVA - 2150**

"I think I found it!" Wallace called out. He was half a dozen feet beneath the others, having slid down the side of a dune to the lower level of the crashed ship. Settled in front of an alcove with a damaged wheel-lock, he used all his force. Wallace leaned on the lock and it creaked, starting to turn. "Yeah! Yeah! Get down here!"

Reynolds, Wash and Taylor clambered to his position – all of them exhausted. Reynolds had a fresh graze across his forehead where he'd slipped and rolled over the hull before Taylor hauled him to safety by his gun strap.

"Yeah, it's coming now!" Wallace added, as the last pin fell into the place and the door gave way. The hinges groaned with the effort, struggling against sand and time. They all gave Wallace a hand, leaning on the door until it snapped and they fell collectively inside the ship.

It was cold and dark – a relief from the desert. Taylor lay on his back, blinking at the strange, shimmering black walls of the interior. "Wallace – talk to me."

"The inside is made of the same material as the hull," he replied, scrambling to his feet with flashlight already on. Nose to the wall, he hummed various notes of amazement. "I thought it was a skin but no – it's the blood and bones. It's not natural either – some kind of new alloy probably. A perfect insulator."

Wash gave Taylor a hand then together they hauled Reynolds up. "I'm all right," he insisted, hobbling a little. His ankle pained but he could stand. " _Service deck 420B-3,_ " Reynolds added, reading the engraved panel on the wall beside them. "Oh well, at least it's in English. Be a right shame if we got this far and found it in Russian."

"I can speak Russian," Wallace muttered, leading the way deeper into the ship.

"Wait on – before you rush off," Taylor grabbed Wallace by the back of his jacket, pullin him to a stop. "This thing is huge. We stay together and mark a way back to the door." He opened one of the pockets on his vest and drew out a set of glow-pens. "Mark up the walls."

They did, leaving a series of glowing arrows.

Far beneath the crashed ship a set of amber eyes was watching.

* * *

"Sir – how long have we been in here?" Wash pulled up beside the Commander. Reynolds was hobbling along in front, keeping a leash on Wallace.

"A few hours," he replied. "I know what you're thinking..."

"Nothing but corridors so far. We need more boots on the ground – or in the ship, as the case may be. We have no idea where we're going or what we're looking for. It was fun for a while but..."

"But so far we've found nothing but corridors and panel numbers. I know."

"Those prototype files might have some schematics."

"Incredible!" Said Wallace, from in front. "The power is on."

Wallace was standing in front of a tiny, working light coming out of a raised ledge. It was one of the most underwhelming sights but Wallace was entranced. "The plans I saw of this thing didn't list a power source."

"Why not?" Asked Reynolds.

"No one had the faintest clue how to power it. As I said, it was a prototype. It's not nuclear – fission or fusion, those require an immense cooling system. The vacuum of space is perfect – a desert in the Cretaceous, not so much. It's too big for solar power." He shook his head slowly. "Everyone keep an eye out. Whatever these engines are made out of we could use them to power things back at Terra Nova indefinitely. Could be useful since you blew up our way back to the future."

"He has a point, sir."

Taylor nodded in agreement. "All right, we'll give it a few more hours. Two teams. Wash, you take Wallace and keep going ahead. Reynolds and I will try this passage on the left. Keep making your way. We'll meet back here in exactly two hours."

* * *

"How's the ankle?" Taylor asked, as Reynolds groaned, leaning against the wall for a moment.

"Swollen but fine." He nodded at the area ahead. "It's widening up there." He was right. After years of hallways then found themselves on a ledge with a railing overlooking the heart of the ship. "Everything is perfectly preserved..."

"Wallace said this ship was designed to survive thousands of years of interstellar flight – it's probably been here a few hundred years. By that calculation it's brand spanking new. I wonder what happened to it..."

"Something dire, obviously," Taylor replied. "That must be the power core Wallace was so excited about." Taylor leaned over the rail. Beneath them was a honeycomb of metallic lattice with stairwells and ladders protecting a star-like orb of purple light. "Reynolds, you feel a strange – pull?"

Reynolds nodded. "My gun's trying to fly off."

"I'm no engineer but that lattice work looks like a Faraday cage and _that_..." Taylor directed Reynold's attention to a nasty crack along the other side where sand had poured in through the hull, "...is not good."

* * *

"Sitrep," Wallace said, after they'd dragged themselves onto the sand beside the rover. It was almost dark and the first pricks of starlight were burrowing through the orange haze lining the horizon. "The ship has cracked all the way along its back edge, right through the hull into the power room. That's four feet of metal torn apart like the Titanic. The power source, whatever it is, has been partially flooded with sand. It's iron-rich and ionising inside the hull before escaping through various cracks in the ship's exterior forming those huge arcs over there." He pointed to the terrifying structures of writhing sand. "I still can't work out if the ship genuinely fell through a large natural rift or if it caused them. So far I can't see any evidence for the latter."

"And what are those?"

"Fragments of a crystal drive," Wallace replied, handing Taylor the pieces. "There's a hell of a lot more of it but the pieces are the size of a damn Raptor. It's been utterly destroyed. If Lucas is looking for something aboard this ship – it's not this."

"He's out here somewhere," Taylor breathed, looking out over the wreck in the desert.

* * *

They camped by the rover with a view of the valley of dunes. The hull of the sip was reflective and when the stars came out in force they were scattered across its shell like a second sky. It was oddly beautiful, as though the ship were a beached whale. Even the streams of ionised dust shimmered as they twisted around.

"I never thought I'd see such a thing," said Wash, sitting overlooking the scene. "Grand destruction is often perilously beautiful. It reminds me of..." _Somalia. With its waterfalls of sand and crushed domes. The scale of death was beyond measure._

"Yeah, it does..." Taylor knew exactly what she was talking about. "Sometimes at night when the world goes quiet, I can hear the sound of the sand. I was so sure that we were going to die, entombed like one of those stories from your books." Wash was an avid fan of ancient tombs and lost human civilisations. Whenever they went out on a new tour of duty she'd brief him on its distant history. It wasn't the worse way he could think to pass the time.

"We should have died there," she agreed. "I was ready for it – with the walls crumbling around us." She shook her head, shifting her attention to the dunes. "I've got that same feeling, sir. There's something out there, watching us – has been from the start."

"Soldiers?"

"No. None of those idiots were smart enough to survive out here. Could be Sixers but I don't know... It feels more like one of our new Cretaceous friends."

"Keep your guard up. First watch is yours then I'll switch with you. Reynolds won't admit it but he needs a break from that ankle."

* * *

They watched all night but aside from the rustle of sand they found nothing. Then the rising sun revealed tracks around the entrance of the ship.

"Son of a..."

"Your son, probably," Wallace bravely pointed out. "Came and went during the night. Like a ghost."

It was the first proof that Taylor had his son was still alive.

They decided to abandon the ship and follow the tracks. Lucas had the answers so they chased his shadow a short way up the next sweep of sand.

"Stop – stop..." Taylor lifted his hand. There was blood in the sand and a storm of prints. "These aren't human. See – here and here." Taylor stalked around, trying to decipher them. "Similar to a Slasher – perhaps a little smaller. Tail marks – over there."

Wash knelt down and nodded. "More over here. I count four, sir. Looks like blood was shed on both sides. Lucas's tracks vanish and are replaced by a rover. He must have stolen one from the Sixers."

"That explains how he's survived out here." Taylor looked toward the rover tracks. "They're heading toward that ridge of rock sticking out of the sand. Limestone caves?"

"Could be. Right area for it," Wallace replied.

"Perfect place for a hold but I suggest we go back and get the rover first."

* * *

They drove all the way to the base of the outcrop. The sands parted briefly like a curtain revealing a short section of limestone which had been eaten away by millions of years of desert ice, splitting apart the rock. Left behind were hundreds of entrances dotted across it where desiccated tree roots draped down into nowhere.

"Hell of a place," Taylor said, as they all stepped out of the rover.

Wallace was given a gun and together they entered the largest chasm with their torches pointing into the dark. Instead of a shallow cave as they'd expected there was a tunnel vanishing deep into the earth.

"This isn't right," said Wash, carefully stepping around the remains of a nest. The floor was carpeted in egg shells, broken down until they became sand. Millions of them built up over generations. "Looks like a nest... Or at least it _was_ a nest."

"No sign of Lucas." Reynolds agreed. "Down here..."

They followed him deeper until the desert was a point of light at their backs. The egg shells abated and they were left with the limestone floor glistening in their fragile light. There were pools of clear water gathered in wells and strange, blue plants clustered at their edges. Crab-like creatures were splayed over every surface, blinking calmly back at them.

"Shit. _Shit!_ " Taylor lifted his arm as a barrier to stop the others in their tracks. Up ahead there were bodies piled alone the wall, left as one might a meat cellar. Half a dozen soldiers – or what was left of them. They stared, eyeless, some partially eaten. "Slashers didn't do this..." Taylor said.

Wash agreed. "They eat their kills or leave them. God." The smell caught up with her. "We need to get out of here."

Too late.

Footsteps scraped over the egg shells at the front of the cave.

"Down – down..." Taylor dragged them over to the far side of the cave where they found cover between the protrusions of rock. The constant streams of water disguised the sound of their breaths as they huddled close, peering through a rib cage at the dinosaur.

 **TERRA NOVA - CRETACEOUS**

Lucas held the map up and compared it to the scene in front. The crashed ship was exactly where it was supposed to be. The ruins found in the future had been partially subducted under the crust, superheated – solidified, folded – thrown ass-over-head then covered by half a dozen metres of lava. Completely unusable. This was much better. Aside from a tear at the back, the ship was mostly in tact – as was the power source, if the raging magnetic fields were anything to go by. He'd chased this thing across time and finally he felt the rush of satisfaction as he stepped onto its back. It all but purred.

The schematics for the ship had been lost but he remembered enough to quickly navigate through one of the access hatches. Once inside, Lucas headed directly for the power core at the base of the ship. Carefully, with a slight flinch as his burned hands rested on the metal lattice work protective the ship's heart, he descended through many levels until he came face to face with the quantum core.

"Aren't you beautiful..." He whispered. The whole of reality had collapsed in on its spherical surface – a blip in reality, existing nowhere and everywhere. All around it, fractures expanded, hairline at first, as if a bullet had cut through the world. The power this impossible object created was enormous – enough to run a ship to another galaxy or travel between worlds. Such a shame it ended up here. That was never part of the plan.

This ship was lost but back home they were building something better and with this power core, Lucas held the key to humanity's future.

The only slight hitch was working out how to transport the core back to the future without closing the time portals instantly. His initial research predicted the cracks would linger – he wasn't sure for how long... Too soon and he'd end up trapped in the Cretaceous forever.

He gathered more readings for his research and then left the way he'd come, trekking across the desert. He paused to marvel at some of the relics caught in the dunes. Pieces of the future were tumbling from the sky – set adrift in this endless, barren wasteland of lost things. There was a tangible sorrow to their bodies left to ruin.

* * *

Weeds rambled over the General's fresh grave. After the passing rains and ravenous growth, it was nothing more than a moment of green beneath the towering tree.

Terra Nova's first child arrived screaming.

Wash emerged the next morning looking half dead. "Not a moment of sleep. Why are you so damn happy?" Taylor was overjoyed. He'd been strutting about his office, chirpier than she'd ever seen him. "How can you be so cheery on so little sleep?" She continued, nursing her head in her hands.

"That sound, Wash, is the beginning of civilisation."

"It's the beginning of a headache, sir."

* * *

There was something off about the sixth expedition from Hope Plaza. Instead of scientists they were given armed personnel. A year ago, Taylor would have been overjoyed for the extra muscle but after everything that happened with the General he was suspicious of their allegiance. They were suspicious of him too, surprised to find Commander Taylor in charge of the camp but none of them were brave enough to ask after the General. Perhaps they were biding their time until communication was re-opened with Hope Plaza and they could be issued a new set of orders. Whatever it was, they never settled with the rest of the colonists.

A week in and Reynolds pulled the Commander aside to protest the 'Sixers' (as they'd taken to calling them) from being on his team. In particular, he objected to the private security detail. "I'm not taking Mira," Reynolds continued, mid way through his rant. "I'd rather ride with a Slasher covering my back, sir. At least I know what its plans are. Bloody mad. Every one of them."

"Do you have any evidence of reprehensible behaviour?"

Reynolds sighed sharply. "Nothing concrete. They gather out of sight – drink amongst themselves – spend most of their spare time in the company of Lucas. I get it. None of that is enough. Doesn't mean there isn't something going on and I am not prepared to stake my life on it."

"I agree with you, Reynolds but unless they actively break the law there's nothing I can do. Best thing for it is to stay close to them with your ears open."

"Like we did Lucas? We've learned _nothing_ from him, sir."

"Look around you, Reynolds. There's no prison here – no holding cells. Let's say you go after the Sixers and call them out on – well, whatever it is you think they're up to. Then what? We lock them in a habitation indefinitely? At least out here they're helping us whilst we work out what they are doing."

"Permission to speak freely?"

"Why not..."

"I hate it, sir."

* * *

Everything went downhill after expedition seven. The people that came through were fine. It was your standard issue science crew with a side order of farmers to help beef up their food supply. They also received most of the kit Taylor had ordered which brought some much needed relief. Power was their biggest problem. Technology was struggling to cling onto life and without the portal they were one good storm away from the stone age. Hence the five crates of candles. As much as everyone loved it here, they weren't _quite_ ready for sticks and stones.

Lucas couldn't be found during the seventh transmission. Taylor guessed (but was never able to prove) that he'd set up a private radio link with his team at Hope Plaza and exchanged information for a future co-ordinated effort. It was directly after when nearly all the colonists of expedition six made a play for Terra Nova.

While the initial flurry of confusion over the seventh colonists was in full swing, the Sixers, led by Mira, armed themselves and began to raid Terra Nova of its natural resources. For a time they even attempted to take over the command centre but Reynolds and his men chased them off into the jungle. The civilians fought with them and when the dust settled, Terra Nova was safe but badly pillaged.

"They've taken half the armoury..." Wash reported, shaking her head as she joined the other heads of department assembled in Taylor's office. "And two rovers. Another's had its tyres slashed."

"Also a fair portion of our warehouse," one of the others added. "We're going to have to replant immediately or start hunting dinosaurs. There are a lot of mouths to feed."

"Wash, make sure that perimeter is tight. If it moves – shoot it."

"Shouldn't we go after them?"

"There's enough of us to defend Terra Nova but playing hide and seek in the jungle is too risky. We stay here, repair the camp. I'll order more resources as soon as the portal opens again. Then I'm going to order some damn answers!"

No one was happy but they didn't have much choice. Those from expedition six who didn't run off with the Sixers were kept under close eye. As far as Taylor could determine, there were two conflicting organisations operating out of Hope Plaza and they were the play thing of both.

"Sir! I thought you said we were to stay inside the compound?" Wash trotted after her CO as he headed, rifle over his shoulder, towards the gate. "Where are you going?"

He only stopped when Wash jogged past him and stood directly in his path, hand on _his_ gun. "To have a word with my son. Please, move aside, Wash."

"You have _no idea_ where he went. If he's in the jungle on his own, you'll be eaten by something before you find him and if he's gone with the Sixers you'll be walking straight into a war."

"Let go of my rifle, Wash..." He warned.

"No sir... This is crazy. You can't go out there on your own."

"You're not coming with me on this one."

"I'm not letting you walk out that gate."

They squared off. She'd never dare question him outright like this if she wasn't truly worried. "Don't make me make it an order."

Her heels dug in. "You're going to have to."

So he _ordered_ her to stay. Wash made him compromise and take a radio. "If you're not back by nightfall, I'm disobeying your order."

"And I'll court marshal you."

Despite everything, she managed a grin. "Oh aye, sir. You and what court?"

Well _damn,_ she had him there.

* * *

"Why am I _always_ dragging your bleeding corpse out of the wilderness?" Wash complained, as she hauled the Commander from the tree line several hours later. He was still hanging onto his rifle, pointing it at the jungle where an ominous rustle in the trees gave away the pursuing dinosaur. This time it wasn't a Slasher but in honestly, they didn't have the faintest clue what it was. The Commander described it as a nine-foot emu and he wasn't far off, aside from the long, spined tail.

"Everyone else passed."

Even though they were running for their life – well, she was, Wash managed to roll her eyes. "Maybe I care, sir."

Taylor was dragged over a sharp rock and cried out, leaving a bloody smear. "That seems unlikely. Shit – dino on your left!"

* * *

"So..." Wash continued, several hours later after the Commander had been patched up and they sat together in his office. He looked like a hundred year old Range Rover. "I take it you found more than a new predator out there."

"You were right. Lucas was definitely working with the Sixers."

"No surprises there."

"I ran into him and Mira with one of the stolen rovers. They looked like they were out on a hunt – maybe chasing the thing that tried to take a bite out of my arse. I managed to corner him alone and we had a chat."

"A chat..." she repeated slowly. "Are you sure that's what it was?"

He looked particularly guilty. "Might have been closer to an argument. Why are you giving me that look?"

"It's probably nothing," she admitted, "but while I was following Lucas it occurred to me that he might be doing all of this to get your attention after what happened. Boys often need that from their parents."

"Wash, there are much easier ways to get my attention."

Wash was frustrated by him. "He shot you. That's not normally how family arguments go. What else did he say? You never, it might help."

Taylor became evasive. "Nothing helpful." Her eyes were boring holes in him. "He mentioned that he was going to 'show me' but from the sound of it I think he's a long way off whatever he's got planned."

All she could do was sigh and collapse into the chair. A minute later she lifted her boots and crossed her feet on the table. "I'm not a shrink," she admitted freely, "but next time you see him I think you should ask about his mother – about Somalia. If nothing else it might induce him to talk."

"It'll get me shot."

He looked defeated by the world. Wash softened. "Somalia wasn't your fault," she assured him. "She _chose_ to work in a volatile area and was perfectly aware of the risks. When everything went to shit out there, it wasn't your doing. Those domes were shoddy work from the start and the heavy shelling from raiding parties finished the job. I'm not saying it was her fault – it just _happened_. Terrible things happen every day, hell I know that as well as you but Lucas has filled his need for blame with a picture of you and in the end it'll bubble into unstoppable rage before..."

"He kills me."

"There are times when I look at you and I wonder if that's what you really want from him."

They locked eyes across the table. "Lieutenant..."

"No," her feet slipped off the table. She dragged herself forward, leaning closer to him. "Don't 'Lieutenant' me over this. Look me in the eye and tell me that you'd fight to survive, if the bullet came?" Silence. Bloody typical idiot. "Exactly." Wash stood. "You should spend some time thinking about what that means, _sir_." There was a bite to that 'sir'.

* * *

"Do you know?"

Reynolds glanced over his shoulder, surprised to find Wallace almost nestled there, far too close for polite company. "Know _what_? There are a great many things that I know. You'll have to be more specific."

Wallace circled Reynolds, backing him into the shade of the market. "About what happened between 'those two'." He nodded meaningfully at the Commander's office.

"The Lieutenant and the Commander?" Reynolds had certainly noticed there was something up. "No. There's been a layer of frost all morning. They've fallen out about something."

Wallace sighed. "Probably Lucas. The Commander's been on edge since the firefight. I've got a few of the scientists from that expedition working for me. Don't trust any of them."

"Try and give them a chance," Reynolds replied. "There's no evidence to suggest that the whole expedition was involved. They were probably bystanders."

"Wait – where are you going? I thought orders were to stay on base? I've had three urgent outings cancelled on account of security. If your lot are out then bad mood or not, I'm going to go up and have a word to the Commander. Reynolds?" Wallace looked down to find the soldier's hand on his arm. "Why are you doing that?"

"Please don't go to the Commander."

It was unlike Reynolds to be cryptic, which had Wallace intrigued. "I'm listening..."

"You're right – the camp is under lock and key. This is a favour for Wash."

"Please tell me you're not going out to find Lucas? Actually, you know what, don't tell me! I'd rather be able to plead innocence when the inevitable happens."

* * *

"They came prepared for this..." Wash said. She and Reynolds had taken up a hide in the V of a large tree. From there they had a view clear across the river and into the canopy where the Sixers were making camp in the trees.

"Smart – living up there. They'll be protected from most of the predators."

"But shit out of luck if a hungry herbivore decides to take a nibble. Can you see Lucas?"

"Negative. Oh wait – down there?" He pointed to the bank of the river where some of the Sixers were fetching water. "That might be him."

He was right. Lucas was waist deep in the river, crossing toward a collection of boulders left clustered in the centre from some past cataclysm. He vanished in between their large, grey bodies. "Odd."

They waited for him to come back out before making their way to the river. Once the Sixers were all safely back inside their camp, Reynolds and Wash waded through the water and into the rock formation. What they found was stunning and ominous in equal measures. "More equations..." Reynolds said. "I saw him scribbling these on one of the old crates back at camp. It's like he's obsessed. There..." he pointed to one of the symbols. "That represents the portal to Terra Nova."

"How the heck do you know that?"

"Mentioned in one of our briefings. Most of it went over my head but I do remember that."

"Looks like whatever this plan of his is, it involves the portal to Hope Springs. Is there any chance that we can move it to a more secure location?"

"I doubt it but I'll ask Wallace."

"In the meantime, we need to have someone posted there at all times watching it. Regular check in."

"Do you want to have a go at their camp? Make a play to bring them back in?"

Wash shook her head. "We'd only be stuck feeding them. At least out here we know exactly where they are. Private – when you left Hope Springs did you notice anything, I don't know, _off?_ "

"To be honest, the whole thing was pretty weird. Can't say I knew anyone well enough to say if they were acting strange."

"Not the people then – what about the place itself?"

Reynolds searched his memory. "It's probably nothing but when you left did you think things seemed rushed? I mean, for a mission as dangerous and important as Terra Nova I'd have expected a sterile affair instead everything was a bit last minute."

"I got that impression as well. I watched the taped footage of the Commander's trip. It was very different with the cameras rolling"

"You saw that?" Reynolds whistled. "They wouldn't let us watch any of the prior expeditions."

"My team was second through the gate. I think they were trying to prepare us. Fools. Nothing could have prepared us for what we found out here." Shivers tracked across her skin. Her dreams were stalked by that creature. More than once Taylor had woken her from that nightmare.

* * *

"Oh bloody hell..." Reynolds set his eyes on the ground. Standing in front of the gate to Terra Nova was a very stern Commander Taylor.

"Reynolds..." Taylor growled, when they drew close.

"Sir..."

"Back to your quarters immediately. I'll speak with you in a moment."

Reynolds ducked through the gate and did exactly as he was told leaving Lieutenant Washington alone with the Commander.

"Lieutenant, what the hell do you think you're doing? I specifically told you not to go after the Sixers."

She was just as mad as him. Her dark eyes met his clear blue ones in a mirror of frustration. In response, she calmly offered a camera in his direction which he took with a look of confusion. "We found Mira's camp. Lucas was there but he's not exactly one of them. He kept to himself, working on a project. I brought back photos."

Taylor brandished the camera in her face. "That doesn't excuse what you did. You could have been killed, Lieutenant, _easily_. Reynolds too. You know very well he'd follow you anywhere – is that what you want, to get him killed too?"

"Of course not-"

"-These people are more dangerous than you realise!" He cut her off before she could finish.

Wash stepped closer, invading his personal space. Behind, the entire camp was watching out of the corners of their eyes. _"That's exactly why I went..."_ She breathed against his ear. _"They're coming for you, not us and I won't let that happen."_

With that, Taylor brushed right by him and entered Terra Nova.

Taylor turned around slowly. "All right – show's over!" He growled at everyone.

* * *

"I'm – I'm _so sorry_ sir..." Reynolds stuttered, when the Commander finally called on him. "The Lieutenant was trying to do the right thing."

"Of course she was – that's her Achilles heel. One of these days it's going to get her killed."

There was so much pain written over the Commander's face that Reynolds had to avert his eyes. "She means a lot to you."

"Yes, she does," he replied carefully, "but don't you go repeating that."

"It's the worst kept secret on Terra Nova."

"You're on fence repair for a week, Reynolds."

"Yeah – I know."

 **TERRA NOVA - 2150**

Taylor shifted ever so slightly so that he could see through the mess of bone and rock obscuring the far side of the cave. His approximation was pretty good. The dinosaurs were related to Slashers – a few cousins removed, so to speak. They were smaller and sharper looking, with bones pressing out from their featherless skin. They had bone growths at the side of their narrow heads and a reddish hue speckled with ochre running in varying patterns running down their backs. It was their teeth that made Taylor recoil. They were aligned like rows of steak knives, curved backwards and sharpened to needle points. _Horrific_.

He counted five but there were more rustling around in the tunnel system. They were trapped, well and truly. The Commander sank back into the pit with the others when the animals began feeding on the corpses of the long dead soldiers.

They were pinned down in silence for almost four hours until the creatures started chirping excitedly at each other. A moment later, they rushed out of the caves.

All four of them were shell shocked by what they'd seen. They moved in silence, creeping back up the cave system until they stepped out into the failing light.

"They hunt at night..." Taylor breathed, as they trekked toward the rovers. All of them were twitchy, watching the dunes for any sign of movement. Suspecting predators were nearby was different to _knowing_. "What is it, Wallace?"

He kept looking over his shoulder at the outline of the spaceship. "I don't know. Something's been bothering me."

As soon as they found the rover the piled inside and locked the doors then all of them laid against the walls, needing to be alone with their thoughts. In the relative darkness, Taylor found Wash's hand. Their fingers laced together before their eyes met.

"The crew..." Wallace shifted, clicking his fingers in realisation. "What happened to the crew of the spaceship?"

"Died a long time ago, I imagine..." Taylor replied. "Or when the ship crashed."

"That can't be right. There were no bodies on board. That thing was sealed tight. We should have found something."

"Then where did they go?"

"Into the desert – into the jungle? There could be a thousand bodies out there and we'd never know."

"Maybe," Wallace admitted, but he wasn't entirely convinced. "I didn't see any sign of Lucas either."

"What do you think?" Wash asked the Commander, their hands still together. If the others noticed, they didn't dare venture a word.

"Forget our new friends. The answer to this puzzle is in that ship. We have to go back for another look. Search for anything that looks like a hard drive while Wash and I go for the power source. It'll have to wait until morning though, those things hunt at night like everything else around here. Try and get some sleep."

That would have been an easier order to follow if the rover was able to keep out the high pitched cries of creatures running through the desert outside. There were _definitely_ things out there looking for blood.

The rover was cramped and cold. Wallace managed to fold himself into the storage space behind the seats while Reynolds balanced awkwardly between the rifles on the back seat. That left Taylor and Wash in the front, staring through the iron grills separating them from the desert. Wash was wide awake, peering at the sand. He could almost see the stars reflected in her eyes.

With the snores of the other two as a backdrop, Taylor carefully moved his hand to rest on her knee, catching her attention. "Sleep. I got this watch."

She shook her head. "I can't. You sleep... I'll wake you in a few hours."

It was hopeless. Sleep took them all, including Wash who ended up snuggled against Taylor's shoulder. In turn, he'd wrapped his arm around her, keeping them both warm.

Wallace's discreet cough woke them.

"Sun's up..."

* * *

"God, look at this!" Reynolds pointed his gun at the sand around the ship. It was awash with pawprints from the pack of predators and parts of the hull had fresh scratches from their claws. "They've been all over the place. Hundreds of them..."

"They must live all through that formation we visited like a great big nest of seagulls." Wallace shuddered.

"Come on, we have no time." The Commander waved them into the ship only this time he was sure to close the door behind them. It wasn't paranoia... It was caution.

The two parties broke apart immediately and soon the commander and Wash were standing beneath the enormous orb of swirling quantum energy, fighting to keep hold of their weapons.

"The magnetic field is right strong," Wash exclaimed. "Look!" She let go of her weapon and watched as it hovered in the air, straining against its straps. "Nightmare. Explains why that lattice work has buckled."

He followed her lead and looked up at the enormous sprawling sheets of metal above them. Everything had buckled. It wasn't decorative at all. It was broken. "There's a piece missing."

"It must have fallen into the orb."

"Could that have caused the crash?"

"No idea sir, but it might explain the huge hole in the hull behind us. Oh shit – here..." Wash swiped her gun out of the air and knelt down to the floor. "Lucas." The surface was coated in his equations. A pile of burned wood was found nearby – still warm. "He's been sleeping in here. That's how he survived."

"Those things must know he's here – that's why they raked over the hull. Cretaceous Bloodhounds."

Every creak and rustle of metal made them flinch. "Well, at least we know he's here for the core." She inched closer to it, tilting her head. "It's like a star," she whispered, drawn to it. "I don't think we're supposed to see this."

"Hey, Wash!" The Commander suddenly lurched toward her, diving for her arm just as she was about to touch the orb. They fell together, hitting the deck hard. The impact shook Wash out of her reverie leaving her dazed. "What do you think you're doing touching that? Who knows what that'd do to you..."

Wash was shaking beneath him. "Sorry sir. I – I have no idea why I did that."

"You were like a moth to a god damn flame."

"I wonder..." This time Wash carefully lifted her eyes to the orb. She felt it's pull almost at once. She averted her eyes to Taylor. "It has some kind of effect on the brain like a narcotic. Might be the patterns in the light. They're known to cause all kinds of strange human behaviour." She leaned heavily on the Commander as he helped her back to her feet. Her hand remained on his arm. "If Lucas has been living under here he might be suffering long term symptoms of addiction and withdrawal. Perhaps it stems all the way back to his research at Hope Plaza. Who knows what he's involved with."

"Easy Wash, you still look a bit flaky." He held on to both her arms to keep her upright.

"Lucas shot me at point blank range."

Taylor stared at her blankly.

"There was footage of it in Terra Nova's archives. I came across it by accident. Do you know what it's like to watch your own lifeless body bleed out?" Tears built up around the rims of her eyes, threatening.

Her words struck him right through the heart. "I know _exactly_ what it's like to watch you die, Alicia. I couldn't do a damn thing about it but I should have tried. I've regretted it every moment since."

"You'd be in the ground beside me if you tried. Promise me that's not what this is about... If you're looking for redemption with Lucas-"

"I'm just looking," he swore, "for a way to save our home." He took her face gently in his hands. "I'm not about to watch you die again."

Without warning, a huge sheet of metal dislodged from above. It smashed free of its braces and hurtled down the shaft – pulled by the force of the orb. Part of it hit the ground almost on top of Taylor and Wash – tossing them aside before it was sucked into the depths of the sphere causing it to expand. As it did, the hairline fractures in time spread, aggravated by the disturbance. The world around them cracked...

"Sir! Sir!" Wash crawled over the ground towards the Commander. He was laid out from the impact, head turned away from her with a worrying amount of blood on the floor. When her hand pressed to his chest, the Commander groaned and rolled his head toward her.

"That hurt..." he complained.

"Lay still – you've got a hole somewhere in your hide."

"Try where your hand is."

"Shit – sorry..." A shard of metal was protruding from his flesh. Wash unzipped his vest carefully and then slid her hands under his tank top between his flesh and the fabric, lifting it above the wound.

Taylor led his head fall back against the ground while she worked. "Verdict?"

"You're all right," she assured him.

"Oh _Christ_ , Alicia!" He gasped sharply, as she pulled the piece of metal out of his chest. It flew from her hand and vanished into the sphere leaving her with a puddle of blood spilling over.

"Feels worse than it is. Your vest stopped most of it. Press here." She guided his hand to the wound so that she could dig through her pockets, returning with a bandage. "It's all I've got on me. You're going to have to sit up – and take that off." She pointed to his tank top.

Taylor did as he was asked, stripping his ruined top leaving him sitting in front of her, dripping onto the ship's deck. She'd found a small bottle of alcohol wash as well which she poured over the wound. It would have hurt like hell but he was ready for it, barely flinching. Delicately, she wound the bandage around his chest, again and again until slipping the clip across.

"Walking wounded but it'll do," she nodded at her handy work. They both looked up at the remaining metal sheets. "This place is falling apart."

There was no point putting the blood soaked top back on so Taylor made do with his bullet proof vest. Wash glanced at her hands. They were covered in his blood – a common occurrence in their line of work. Especially Somalia...

 _'I'm all right but you're not...' Wash pushed the Commander off her. Sand rained down around them as the dome shattered further. There was a huge sliver of glass embedded his side, slicing him apart like cheese. "Oh Shit... Shit... Sir?" His initial bravado was fading fast as the adrenaline wore out._

" _How bad is it Wash?" He asked, feeling the sudden rush of pain through his torso. She was silent. "Come on, don't you give me lies."_

 _Wash shifted, moving back to his face after inspecting the wound. Her hands were covered in his blood and she'd gone pale._

" _Right..." Taylor didn't need her to say anything at all, it was written in her eyes._

 _She shook her head defiantly. "You will be fine, sir." Wash took a combat knife and cut away his vest leaving her with the shard of glass and his naked torso. Blood fell down his side like a waterfall, dribbling through the porous floors into the facility below along with half the desert._

" _What are you doing, Lieutenant?" He could feel life dripping away, as surely as the tide. She was wasting time with him. "This place is coming down. Go on without me – find – find Ayani for me..."_

" _No."_

" _Wash, I've had it. Got half the bloody dome in my arse."_

" _No." She laid out a cloth with a field needle and stitches beside them. Although her heart was racing her hands remained perfectly steady._

" _Lieutenant that's an order."_

" _I understand, sir but I'm still not leaving." She braced herself, taking the piece of glass with both hands. "This is probably going to hurt..."_

 _As she pulled the glass out of his body, Taylor literally saw stars. He gasped, trying to cough up his lungs but the rush of panic and pain sent him out cold. Wash tossed the blood stained glass aside, watching it shatter. "Sir?" She reached down, tilting his face back toward her. He was out. "I like you better this way anyway..."_

 _He didn't wake until she was nearly finished. A trail of stitches ran the length of his side and beneath him the bloody sea had dried. Wash looked as though she'd taken up work in an abattoir, painted red with his blood._

" _Do you know where you are?" Wash asked calmly, when she noticed him wake._

" _Somalia. I – I thought I was dead."_

" _You were, a couple of times. Stay still, this is the last one."_

 _Taylor watched the care with which his Lieutenant patched him up. There was a huge trail of stitches down his right side but they were all perfect._

" _Right – now you just sit for a while," she said, finishing up. "The fight is over. They've taken the hostages to a different location. We're waiting for evac. As soon as we know where they've gone, we'll go after your wife and son. You're no good to them if you keel over."_

" _You disobeyed a direct order..."_

" _Did you really think that I was going to leave you here to die simply because you ordered me?" Wash replied, sitting back against the column with him. "You want to die, you do it on somebody else's watch. Never mine."_

"Can you hear something?" Wash lifted her weapon, pointing it at the far side of the room where shadows hid the edges from view. "You don't think Lucas might still be down here?"

The Commander joined her, edging toward the darkness. "Maybe."

Before they could investigate, they were interrupted by Wallace and Reynolds entering at high speed. They almost fell down the stairs, panic wild in their eyes.

"Steady!" Wash raised her hand to them, trying to get some sense out of their rushed words.

"We've got to get out of there – there are things living in the ship!" Wallace started.

"He's right – I counted more than a hundred. We were looking for the bridge when we stumbled upon this huge room and it was crawling with them. We closed the door but they'll get out soon."

"Dinosaurs?"

"No sir..." Reynolds was shaking his head. "They looked like humans but – but savage..."

"The crew..." Wallace breathed.

Together, they scrambled through the ship, heading for the hatch. Once outside they slammed it behind them and laid against the safety of the ship's hull. It was only then that Reynolds noticed the state of his two superiors.

"What happened to you two?"

"Disagreement with the ship," Taylor replied. "You said you saw the crew?"

"Pretty sure." Reynolds nodded. "They must have been living in the ship all this time."

"That's not exactly how we imagined humanity would endure..." Taylor sighed. Those poor souls, trapped in there indefinitely. "They probably think this world is a desert plagued with predators. Maybe that's why they never left – with those things coming for them every night."

Wash took the Commander by the shoulder. "Sir, we have to get you back to Terra Nova. Whatever is going on out here, it can wait."

They climbed back to the top of the ridge to the rover. In front – the cliff loomed and Wash paused at the view. Dozens of new cracks had appeared in the sky, some of them deep. "This place is falling apart..." she whispered.

Reynolds roamed around to the other side of the rover, vanishing out of sight. As soon as he stepped into the shadow, something heavy impacted his head sending him to the sand – unconscious. Lucas dropped the bar to the ground and frisked the soldier for weapons. He set the gun to _stun_ and waited. He took Wallace next – aiming the gun right at his chest.

"You just sit there quietly..." Lucas forced Wallace onto the sand. "I'd be a shame to shoot you – you're actually quite useful – but I will. And I'll be taking that..." He plucked a second sidearm from him. This time, he left it on live ammo.

Carefully, he approached his father and the Lieutenant. They were arguing about something, standing at the edge of the cliff. Washington saw him first and predictably drew her weapon. No safety. No hesitation. That was something Lucas liked about her. His father was a fraction behind, reaching for his weapon before Lucas stopped him. "Not so fast dad. Hands in the air. Come on." Taylor obeyed reluctantly. "Now this _is_ odd..."

"Lucas..." Taylor tried to implore his son. "We know what's going on down there. We can talk about it – put the weapons down."

Lucas wasn't interested in his father's platitudes. "Ah Lieutenant, we've been here before. You had your chance to shoot me – why don't you tell the Commander why you can't?"

"That wasn't me, Lucas."

"You are all the same," Lucas assured her. "You couldn't kill me then and you can't kill me now." He could see her hands slipping slightly on the weapon. They both knew that if she pulled that trigger it would destroy the Commander. She'd rather die than do that to him. "Why _is that_?"

"Lucas – enough..." The Commander said.

"Quite a keeper, dad," Lucas shifted his attention. "She'll die for you without a thought."

Taylor replayed that vision every night. Her head jerking back. Her body crumpling to the ground. "You bastard, you didn't have to kill her."

"Do you want to know what Lieutenant Washington's last words were?" Lucas risked a step closer to his father, yet he kept both guns trained on them. "Oh, you do. I can tell. It _gets_ to you, not knowing." He paused for a moment, enjoying the way his father's attention hung on every word. " _You know – you have your father's eyes..._ That was it. She was staring right at me when I pulled the trigger."

Taylor didn't realise that a tear fell across his face, landing in the sand.

"I did it for you," Lucas continued. "I did it," he repeated, genuine rage flickering across his mad eyes, "because you love her more than mum."

Wash felt her throat clench at those words. Guilt – hope, love – pain... Everything was such a mess. "Lucas!" Wash shouted, trying to drag his attention away from the Commander. "You want to kill me again, come and have a go but there's one thing you should know about your father."

"Wash-" Taylor tried to interrupt but she hushed him with a raised hand.

"You and your mother were his whole world. I was the one in love with him, not the other way around. What you saw in Somalia was goodbye – pity, if you like. Your father is one of the few good men left in this world. Shoot me if you like but I won't let you harm him."

Every single one of her words was like a knife to Taylor. Was that honestly how she had felt all these years? Didn't she understand what was so plain to everyone else? He'd been mad about her from the start. Then he remembered, Wash _never_ lied to him. "Alicia, look at me."

It took a moment for Wash to drag her gaze away from Lucas. She found him undone, eyes wet with tears he'd held back for years. "Sir..."

"Lucas is right."

 _Snap!_ Lucas's gun went off, the bullet slamming into his father's chest. Blood sprayed out over the desert as the Commander stumbled. His arms reached out helplessly. He looked down at the wound before his knees buckled.

"No!" Wash screamed, pinned by Lucas's other weapon. Lucas was about to fire again, his finger twitching on the trigger to end it. "No..."

Wash slammed into Lucas's arm with all her force, surprising him. The gun went off, its bullet digging into the sand next to the Commander. He fell anyway, collapsed in the desert. Wash and Lucas wrestled, both his weapons coming for her head until he stumbled backwards, losing his footing on the edge of the cliff.

Helplessly, the Commander watched as Alicia and his son vanished over the edge.

 **TERRA NOVA - CRETACEOUS**

"Are we still fighting?"

Wash sighed. She'd felt him lingering at her doorway for a while, gaining the courage to speak first. They didn't do 'apologies'. Having a short memory was much more practical. Everyone said things they didn't mean in the heat of battle. "Can't remember what we were fighting about."

Taylor figured it was safe to step inside. "I'll take that as a no." Terra Nova hated it when they fought. How did Reynolds put it? _Like having your parents fight._ "I heard you took a fall."

Which explained why Wash was in her quarters cleaning her guns with one leg on the table instead of snarling at the fence line. "It was nothing," she assured him. "I got a bit too friendly with a vine and slipped."

"Horticulture was never your thing," he admitted with a smile.

"That's why you set it as a punishment. You'll be pleased to hear that I didn't kill any of the apple trees."

The Commander sat carefully on her table opposite the couch where she'd set up residence. "Who patched you up?" He asked, nothing the rather wayward stitching on her leg.

"Jules. I'm sure he was a vet."

"Yeah, Wallace has already started pestering me for a new medic. He's got one in mind."

"Still better than your workmanship." Wash bent forward and rolled up her trouser leg all the way to her cream thigh, exposing a pale scar.

"Come on – that's not so bad..." He defended himself.

"Are we calling that straight?"

"We're calling it – you wouldn't stay still..." He tried not to linger too long on the sight of her thigh and how it reminded him of their nights in the cave, watching the world pass by on the other side of the falls. That was all a dream now. A perfect moment that belonged to them. He often wondered what might have happened if they'd remained there alone any longer. They'd come so close to _something_. "I came to tell you something," he began, awkwardly. "Lucas is not going to kill me. He had more than his chance that day in the jungle but he made one thing clear, he wanted to hurt me. Killing me doesn't give him what he needs but – _killing you_... That's why I don't want you out there near him."

 _That's why he was so angry..._ Wash realised.

They left it at that for months. Possibilities swirled around them through stolen looks and quiet moments. Lucas vanished except for dazzling sketches left etched onto the rocks of a nearby stream, reminding the Commander that he was coming back one day. When all hell broke loose and the Phoenix army prepared to storm the portal, Taylor pushed Wash back inside Terra Nova.

Her hands went straight to his chest. "Sir! You're not going without me!"

Amid the chaos of battle, Taylor wrapped his arm around his Lieutenant and leaned down to whisper against her ear. "I'm coming back for you. I always do."

 **TERRA NOVA - 2150**

Wash and Lucas broke apart as the entered free-fall. He screamed – she remained silent, closing her eyes in wait of the inevitable.

A fracture in time lay beneath, catching the sun. It swallowed them up, snatching Lucas and Wash from the Cretaceous only to hurtle them onto the deck of a Spanish galleon in the throws of war. Gunpowder filled the air. Canon fire shook the wood under their hands. Swords smashed above their heads and body fell in gurgling fits of death.

Lucas was on his feet first, rolling away from a storm of splinters as another shot hit. A few startled eyes watched as he scrambled up the listing deck, heading for pair of fractures that had forked like lightning. Meanwhile Wash groaned, rolling onto her side. Smoke streamed past, obscuring her vision. She coughed it out of her lungs and grasped onto the nearby mast. As she stood up, she saw that the ship was caught in a whirlpool, spiralling toward a huge portal. Another ship was caught in the drag. The two of them continued to battle, even as the waves lapped at their decks. Lucas was nearby, heading toward another crack. Time was coming apart at the seams...

Wash gave chase, using the rail for support as she climbed the stairs, clawing after Lucas. As they neared the twin-fork, Wash screamed out. "Lucas!"

He ducked under a surprised shot from a Spanish sailor.

"He was your _father!_ " Her eyes were red with tears as she pulled her weapon on him.

Lucas loitered, an arm's reach from her. "And now I'm the only thing that's left of him. Interesting..." He eyed her weapon. "Could you do it? I wonder if you have the nerve to close these eyes forever..."

Wash fired without hesitation – and _missed_. Lucas stepped into one side of the rift while a sudden wave tossed Wash into the other.

* * *

"Don't move, Taylor..." Wallace was on his knees beside the Commander. His tone was soothing and calm but his heart raced. True, he wasn't a medic but he'd seen enough people shot to know when things were bad.

"W-Wash..."

"There's a rift beneath the edge of the cliff. I think they fell into it." Wallace couldn't tell if that came as a comfort to him. "Steady breathing now – I'm going to take you back to-" but the Commander cried out as he tried to shift him.

"Stop..." he begged. Taylor managed to grasp Wallace's hands. They were slick with blood. Neither of them noticed Reynolds stumble in from the rover – panic in his face. "You tell her..." Taylor barely managed to breathe. "Tell her..."

Wallace tightened his grip on the Commander's hands as if that might keep him anchored to the world. "She knows, Nathaniel. She always has."

"She died – before I could say-"

 _Oh god, he was talking about the other Wash._ Wallace struggled to keep his composure. "They both did. Worst kept secret in Terra Nova..."

The Commander tried to laugh through his tears. And that was all. He left the world as a crimson river, drying in the sand.

* * *

Lucas landed face first on the hull of the Driftliner XT. Its polished, perfect hull hovered in the enormous hanger surrounded by a swarm of engineers. He peeled himself off the ground and looked over the future. Outside, the stars were raining down and the whole dome began to crack.

This is where it began.

* * *

Wash hit the floor of the brig and rolled instinctively away from the bars. Her body was battered and for a moment her anger was forgotten. She curled up, letting out a gasp of pain that ripped directly from her heart.

"Lieutenant?"

It must have been a dream. She shook her head, curling up closer. A cautious hand took her by the shoulder and rolled her over onto her back.

"Wash!"

"Sir...?" She replied, through tear stained eyes. He looked as though he'd been locked up for a lifetime but it was definitely him – Commander Taylor. " _Sir!_ " She launched herself onto him, wrapping her arms around him in a furious hug that threatened to knock them both over.

"Hey – hey..." The Commander held her gently, entirely at a loss. "Are you going to tell me what the hell is going on?" Except she was trembling. Wash never did that. "Alicia?" His hand rested softly on the back of her head. She was covered in blood and sand and smelled like gunpowder. "Where on earth have you been? You vanished without a trace years ago. I thought..."

She was the first to pull back, lifting her hand to his face. Her thumb rubbed across his lips in question. Real – or dream? Was this her falling from the cliff, waiting for the ground? "Wait-" Reality crashed around her. "Is this Hope Plaza?" He nodded in reply. "The brig?" He nodded again. "And I vanished..."

"Right before the mission to Terra Nova. When you didn't show command said you must have gotten cold feet and run off but I knew that couldn't be. I assumed – foul play..."

"How did you get from Terra Nova to a brig in Hope Plaza?"

"I was replaced by General Philbrick. They're using Terra Nova as a mining base, stripping meteorite out of the Bad Lands. I raised a rebellion but we were unsuccessful. _How are you here!_ "

So he didn't know the truth about this place. "You, sir." Another rift was about to break apart. She could feel it stirring in the air like a whisper. "Do you trust me?"

"Wash-"

"Yes or no. Do you trust me?"

He didn't have the faintest clue what was going on. "Always."

* * *

Wallace noticed the pair of dog tags laying on Taylor's chest. He nudging one gently so that he could read the second set beneath. _Alicia Washington._ "This is a fucking tragedy..." He shook his head, before helping Reynolds carry the Commander's body back to the rover where they wrapped him carefully.

"We can't leave. What about Wash?" Reynolds protested.

"See for yourself – that crack has closed up. There's nothing we can do. If she's alive, she'll find a way back to us. At least she took Lucas with her. We need to get back to camp and work out what we're going to do about all of reality collapsing."

Skye took it the hardest, latching onto whomever was closest as they lifted the cover off the Commander's body. In every way that mattered, he'd been a father to her. There was no argument, he was buried beside Wash on the rise overlooking Terra Nova. The camp rallied together while Wallace set about the impossible task of closing the portals once and for all.

* * *

For the second time today, Lieutenant Wash found herself in free fall. The crack she'd dragged the Commander through spat them out at the top of a waterfall. They'd hit the cool water for a moment and then immediately been swept off the edge of the falls.

Arms spread, they both screamed as they were consumed by the rush of spray coming off the pool below. Submerged, Wash swam against the drag of the current, heading for the light. As soon as she surfaced she knew they were home. The Cretaceous had a feel about it that got stuck under your skin.

Taylor surfaced beside her, gasping at the first fresh air he'd had in a year. "What the-" He stammered, recognising at once the familiar look of his surrounds.

The only thing they didn't know was _whose_ Terra Nova this was. They settled on the bank, taking a moment simply to breathe.

"I'm so sorry," Wash finally offered. "I left you behind. I didn't even think." She'd almost finished her story when Taylor interrupted.

"Lucas shot you?" The pain was visible on his face.

"Don't worry, he killed you too. A few minutes ago-" her voice caught. Another tear fell. "I couldn't believe it when I saw you sitting there in that cell. Now I know how he must have felt that day."

She so confused. They had been through so much since stepping onto Terra Nova and yet none of it together. The lines between them had blurred beyond recognition.

"I don't know who we are any more." She confessed.

"Eyes up, Lieutenant," Taylor said softly. When she obeyed, he offered a smile. "The last time I saw you was that god damn leaky boat. Do you remember what the last thing you said to me was?"

The edge of her lip curled into a smile. "Any time, sir."

"That's right. That's where we are, Wash. Then you bailed me out of the brig. We're just fine, you and I. Now let's go and find out whose Terra Nova this is, yours – or mine."

* * *

 _Hers_. She relaxed at once, laying in the grass for a moment. "There's no way of telling how much time has passed but this is the Terra Nova I was telling you about."

The walked right up to the front gates – bold as brass. The sentry nearly fell off in shock when she got a look at the Commander.

Skye rushed out of the Command centre, flew down the steps and tackled Taylor in his second surprised hug of the day.

Taylor's eyes swept straight to Wash in confusion. He didn't have the faintest clue who this was.

"Skye – Skye..." Wash gently untangled the girl from Taylor. "This isn't-"

That was all Skye needed to hear before she worked it out. Of course... Her Commander was going cold in the ground. She stepped back from him. "Sorry. You probably don't know me."

Wash leaned in and whispered something in Taylor's ear. Soon after, he bent down on one knee to Sky, offering her his hand. "That's okay. We'll get to know each other soon. I promise."

"How long has it been?" Wash asked Skye.

"Three days."

* * *

Taylor couldn't stop staring at the dinosaur skull beneath the desk at the end of the room. He kept pacing around it.

"There's a story behind that," Wash assured him.

"I bet there is." They were waiting for Wallace and his team to assemble. "Do you think this whacko plan of theirs is really going to work? I thought it would take something more extraordinary than TNT to close the rift."

"Well, strictly speaking, collapsing the ship into the quantum orb will close the rift but to do that we need TNT to weaken the ship but yeah, to answer your question, I think it might work."

"And we're really not allowed to tag along?"

"Wallace thinks the two of us have screwed around with Time more than enough. I kind of agree with him."

Taylor lifted his hands in defeat. "All right. Oh dear..." A tiny prehistoric rodent raced across the floor and nestled against the wall. Wash bit her lip in amusement as the Commander smirked. "Hey..." he addressed the mouse. "Just you wait, things are looking up." In seventy-million odd years.

* * *

Every now and then, Wash couldn't help thinking about the other Commander. "I was a ghost to him," she confessed to Wallace one day, when he caught her at the grave planting flowers.

He'd made good on his promise and told her what he said. "They're together now," he helped her with the flowers. "And you and the Commander..." He added cautiously.

"It's complicated."

"There's an understatement for you."

* * *

Wash and Taylor were forbidden from attending the mission to destroy the ship but they had argued their way to a vantage point so they could watch the hatchet buried – rather literally.

"Come on sir!" Wash tried to hurry him to the rover. "You want a good spot for this we have to go now, while the beach is exposed. It'll be under water at this rate."

The Commander finally emerged, fixing his uniform. He strolled through camp as if he'd never left. Same old Commander. Same old Wash. Bickering in the driveway.

"Time and tide, Wash," he announced, "It waits for no one."


End file.
